Another Life
by WerewolfDoctor
Summary: What if Sirius escaped from Azkaban before Harry even went to Hogwarts? Join Sirius as he tries to prove his innocence, get revenge and get to know the godson he lost. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_I'm innocent … I'm innocent … inno … innocent … I'm ... I shouldn't be here … not here … please … I'm innocent … I'm ... innocent ... I'm innocent … Wormtail ... the spy … not me … I'm innocent … I'm innocent … I'm innocent … James … Lily … dead … I'm innocent ... Harry … little Harry … gone ... my fault … all … my fault ... I'm sorry … shouldn't have trusted … couldn't have known … innocent … I'm ... innocent … I'm inno … cent … please ... I'm innocent … I'm innocent … I'm innocent … no ... I'm innocent … I'm ... innocent … I'm innocent ... _

The mantra repeated endlessly in Sirius' head, _I'm innocent,_ keeping him sane, stopping him from wailing in despair like the rest of the inmates, though he had no happy memories left. _I'm innocent._ He couldn't remember what James looked like, the sound of his laughter, even though he knew they had been closer than brothers. _I'm innocent._ He could only remember James' anger when he had, in his stupidity, almost killed Snape, and worst of all, revealed Remus' condition to their enemy. _My fault … all my fault._ He could remember when he had found James and Lily dead and little Harry, his godson, who he had promised to protect at all cost, futilely trying to wake his dead mother up. Harry who, even when it had seemed all was lost, could make him smile, laugh and hope for a better future. He could only think of where Harry might be going, and how he would be treated there. _I'm sorry._ He knew that Harry would grow up thinking that he had been responsible for his parent's deaths. He knew that Harry was lost to him forever. _I'm ..._

Sirius broke down, crying. He once again changed to his dog form and his thoughts, although not happy, were simpler. He thought with an animal's mind of hunger and pain, and the raw wound that was the death of his friends seemed just a little easier to bear. He whined at the meagre rations he had been given, but he did not feel the chill of the Dementors. _I'm innocent._

Most prisoners give up on food as their will to live diminishes, but Sirius had been determined to stay alive in the hope that he might be released and his innocence proved, _I'm innocent,_ but now eight years had passed and he was no closer to freedom. He was giving up, eating less and less often and was getting weaker and thinner. It didn't seem to matter so much now whether he was guilty or innocent, he had lost his grasp on reality more than once, and sometimes he thought that he might actually be guilty, that he might have betrayed Lily and James and he was tortured with the thought far into the spent more and more time as a dog, enjoying the little freedom it gave him. A dog knows nothing of guilt and innocence. The days, the weeks, the month and the years dragged on, merging into one long nightmare.

Harry would be nine by now, some lost part of his mind reminded him. Sirius tried to picture his face, tried to imagine what he would look like, but found he couldn't. He couldn't even remember the colour of his eyes, which had so captivated him before. He could remember saying that they were the exact shape and colour of Lily's eyes, but what exactly was that shape and colour he could not remember. He could remember with a cold vivid clarity what Harry's scar had looked like, because it was a symbol of all that had gone wrong, all he had lost. That scar haunted his nightmares. He tortured himself constantly wondering how Harry must feel, having to live with it, forever marked out as different, forever reminded of what he had lost. The Harry in his mind had no face, just a large, red scar, spoke in a distant, unearthly voice. _You're fault. You should have known. Now I am alone and you do nothing but sit in prison. Failure. You promised to protect me. You promised to love me. _

Sirius was overtaken by a sudden and fierce obsession – he had to know what Harry looked like, had to know how he felt, had to know who he was, had to know his dreams and help him realise them, he had to know his fears and make them go away. He had to apologise to this lost boy for all that had gone wrong, all his mistakes that led to his parent's deaths and he had to swear to him that he would make up for them. He had to wrap his arms around his godson again and tell him that he loved him. He had lost too much, he wasn't going to lose Harry. His mind was clear once more. _I'm innocent_.

Sirius felt the Dementors trying to take the thoughts from his mind and fought to keep them. He soon found that the Dementors couldn't take them, because they weren't happy thoughts. It was an obsession, the need to know his godson, and it gave Sirius strength. He changed to his dog form and tried to force himself through the bars and was surprised to find he managed it with ease, he hadn't realised he had gotten so thin. He let out a bark that almost sounded like a laugh, the other prisoners were so trapped in their own minds that there was no need for any other defences, but he had beaten them. Sirius plunged into the icy cold water and let out another bark out of pure joy. He had not felt so amazingly alive in so long, all the memories that had been taken from him came rushing back in a jumble. The sound of James' voice, his laugh, the feeling of truly belonging for the first time in his life when he met the Marauders. Running with the Marauders every full moon, young, wild and free. The look of pure trust and adulation in Harry's eyes and his happy laugh when he had swung him around and held Harry to him. James and Lily finally dating. How happy Remus had been when he had realised they would accept him as he was and they would do anything to make his transformations easier. Being James' best man, being named godfather to Harry. Running away to James' and finding a new family, one he could truly love. As he swam Sirius lovingly sorted through each and every memory, affectionately lingering on particular ones and basking in their warm glow. _I'm innocent and I'm free._

Sirius reached dry land at last, he shook the water off, chased his own tail and stole some food from a nearby house as, for the first time in years, he felt the gnawing of hunger in the pit of his stomach. He savoured all the individual tastes, so unlike the Azkaban food – if it could be called food at all, more like tasteless fuel. Sirius enjoyed the food and tried not to think of what came next, the search for one boy in a million, who could be anywhere, with anyone. He chose instead to dream of the reunion, Harry's instant recognition that he was better off coming to live with him and the blissful coexistence that would follow, with him becoming the nearest thing to a dad that Harry would have. He chose to ignore the fact that he was a wanted criminal and supposed mass murderer, that their life together would be dangerous, forever on the run, forever searching for a rat that they would probably never find. He could worry about that later, for now he would enjoy his freedom.

Harry Potter sat in his cupboard trying to get the spider on the ceiling to play with him, but it was a lost cause. He had been shut in the cupboard for turning his teacher's wig blue, even though he had no idea how it could have happened. It was as bad as the time his hair grew back unexpectedly. He had tried to explain this to the Dursleys and had made the mistake of using the 'M' word, now he was locked in the cupboard for the weekend with no food. He had learnt from bitter experience that it was useless to try and reason with the Dursleys when they locked him in the cupboard, it only resulted in more punishment.

Harry looked around the small space, wondering what else he could do to take his mind of his hunger but found nothing. He wished, as he often did, that someone would come and take him away to a place where he was treated as well as Dudley was, a place where magic did exist and there was nothing the Dursleys could do about it. A place where being normal didn't matter. He wished his parents were still alive, then he would never have had to live with the Dursleys in the first place. He touched his scar, his only memento of his parents, of the car crash that killed them, and found he didn't feel hungry any more. He curled up in the corner and dreamed of a scream, a woman holding him in a way he had never been held before, a strange man and a flash of green light, then nothingness. Harry shivered and pulled his thin quilt around him tighter.

Peter Pettigrew chewed his rat food thoughtfully, it wasn't such a bad life as a rat, he got plenty of food, it was warm and, most of all, it was safe. He was safe from the Ministry who were still under the impression that Sirius was the guilty one. He allowed himself a small moment of self congratulation that he, the 'stupid' one, had fooled everyone, even Dumbledore. He was safe from the Dark Lord's old supporters who must be so angry with him, and he was safe from his old friends and Dumbledore himself. He curled up to go to sleep, idly listening to the talk of his family, who were speaking in hushed voices, when he heard something that shook him to his tiny paws "Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban," Peter shrank to the corner of his cage, suddenly cold and so very, very afraid. His eyes darted around the room as if he might spot Sirius lurking in the corner. Sirius was the only one who knew he was alive, Sirius was the only one who knew that he was the real spy and Sirius was one of two people who knew his disguise and what was more, could easily identify him, how many times had Sirius witnessed his transformation? Sirius would be furious and bent on revenge, he briefly thought of running away, but decided that it would be better to stay with this wizard family so he would know everything that happened in the world around him. He didn't sleep well that night.

Professor Albus Dumbledore paced his office. Sirius Black had now become the first person to escape from Azkaban, without any obvious outside assistance, which made the feat even more remarkable. He felt a small, dissonant, note of pride at the cleverness of his old pupil and quickly squashed it. Now was not the time, he could wallow in his memories later. The matter in hand now was not how Sirius had escaped, although that was no doubt a fascinating question and one he would meditate on later, but whether Harry Potter, who Sirius would surely target, was safe.

Dumbledore discreetly travelled to the Dursleys and silently checked, that the blood protection still held and Lily's sacrifice still protected her son. Once he was satisfied, he checked on Harry to make sure he was safe. Dumbledore trembled with suppressed rage at the medieval treatment of Harry but was convinced that this was still the safest place for Harry to be. He would have to leave Harry with these people, it was, and he shuddered at the thought, at the unfortunate words, for the greater good. He hoped that Harry might one day forgive him for it and understand that he was trying to do the best for him. He hoped that one day he would not regret leaving Harry here. He hoped that one day he could forgive himself. Dumbledore gazed down at the sleeping boy and longed for the day when Harry would be safely in the walls of Hogwarts, loved and cared for as he should be. He then, as silently as he came in, made his way out again, reluctantly closing the cupboard door behind him. He no longer felt a guilty pride in his old pupil, but anger. It was because of Sirius that James and Lily were dead, because of Sirius that Harry was being raised by people who hated him. It was Sirius who had broken all of their hearts.

Professor Minerva McGonagall waited outside the Headmaster's office for Dumbledore's return. She, like the Headmaster himself, was lost in her thoughts and memories of a certain escaped convict. Sirius Black had been one of her favourite pupils, as troublesome as he was, the other of course being James Potter. She wished she could go back to those days when she had been sure of who was friend and who was foe. She reassured herself that no one could have seen what was to come, even James who had spent practically every moment with him since they were eleven years old. James who he had murdered as surely as if he'd said the curse. Although she had disapproved of much of what the Marauders had got up to, James and Sirius in particular, she had been fond of them and thought they were true Gryffindors and the loyalist of friends. She had, quietly, cheered along with the rest of the school when James and Lily had finally started dating, and she had been so happy when Dumbledore had informed her one evening that Remus' friends had discovered his secret and were determined to remain friends with him whatever the cost. The Marauders she knew would die before betray their friends, what could have possibly changed in such a short space of time? Of course, she knew the answer – one Dark Lord who took over nearly everywhere, and nearly destroyed everything they held dear.

Dumbledore appeared behind her and interrupted her thoughts. "Evening Minerva," he said lightly, "Harry is still safe and should remain so, unless Black has powers that we don't know of. Of course I regret having to leave Harry with those people, but," he shivered, "it is necessary." McGonagall nodded. It was necessary, Sirius Black, damn him, made it necessary.

If they could have seen Sirius Black, supposed mass murderer, at that precise moment, they would have been quite surprised, even shocked. He was currently playing fetch with a couple of local Muggle children, who had adopted this strange stray as their own. Life was good.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken Sirius a long time but he had finally found Harry. He had remembered that Lily had a

Muggle sister who would be Harry's only living relative. The sister, he remembered, had long since fallen out with Lily because she couldn't accept that Lily was a witch. He hoped that the sister would have been able to put aside her prejudices for Harry's sake, but he didn't think it likely. Sirius had gone through the Muggle records looking for Lily Evans and found Petunia Dursley nee Evans. He was feeling enormously pleased with himself and glad that the endless search for one boy in a million he had envisioned was so much easier and shorter than he had thought.

… _mass murder Sirius Black has escaped from a high security prison. The public is warned that Black is armed and highly dangerous and should not be approached under any circumstances. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately. The Government has assured the public that the situation is under control ..._

Harry Potter's life had just gotten much better – he had made a friend, a big black dog with wild yellow eyes that was the size of a bear. The dog was loyal only to him, and it understood everything he said. When it was around Dudley and his gang didn't dare go near him, which gave him a new and exciting freedom, he had roamed further and explored more than he had ever done before. Of course, when Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had found out about the dog they had forbidden him to go near it, but for the first time he could remember he wasn't afraid of breaking one of the Dursley's many rules. He would see his friend whether they liked it or not. There would be consequences he knew, his adventures with the dog led to more spells in the cupboard. but Harry found that that those long absences only made him long for the dog's companionship more.

Harry tried to give the dog a name, he couldn't go around just calling it 'Dog' after all, but it didn't seem to like any of the names he tried. He had started with 'Rover' but the dog had seemed almost disdainful when he had suggested it so he decided against normal dog names. 'Blackie' didn't go down well either, nor did 'Big' or 'Furry'. When, however, he suggested 'Bigfoot' as a joke the dog seemed a little happier and held out it's paw, as if it was trying to tell him something, but then Aunt Petunia called him in to do the cleaning and he didn't get the message. Later that night, however, he found a note in his cupboard which said, in a jerky handwriting he didn't recognise, 'Padfoot'. Harry thought that was a good name for the dog and decided to try it out next time he saw it. He had a curious idea that the dog had written it, although that was absurd, that would be like, and Harry grinned to himself in his silent rebellion, because that would be like magic.

The dog was, as always, waiting for him as he left the house. He stood in front of it and said "Padfoot?" the dog immediately jumped up, wagging it's tail and so the dog was called Padfoot. Harry's belief that Padfoot had written the note grew in his mind, after all, why else would a note with the word Padfoot written on it appear in his cupboard? A word that just happened to be the perfect name for his dog. Harry determinedly ignored the fact that it was impossible for a dog to even hold a pen, let alone write a word and continued in his silent rebellion in the Dursley's dogma of all things normal and sensible.

Sirius found it hard to contain his anger at the way the Dursleys treated Harry, but he forced himself to remain calm and plan ahead. Not the things that came naturally to him, but Sirius knew this was too important to mess up with his normal rash, impulsive actions. Harry was in no immediate danger that he could tell; the Dursleys didn't abuse Harry as such, just deliberately neglected him, deliberately kept him downtrodden. Harry had a undernourished look which was exacerbated by the oversized, second hand clothes he wore. Sirius often brought Harry food which he had stolen from the local shop, and, after a little hesitation, Harry gladly accepted and hungrily wolfed down. Harry always had a look of desperate loneliness, which, Sirius was pleased to note, had lifted somewhat since he had come along. For now he would befriend Harry as a dog, although he longed for the day when he could befriend him as a man.

Although he had to admit to being somewhat biased, Sirius thought that Harry was a fascinating and charming boy. He was no longer _his _little Harry, the delicate trusting baby, but a street smart young boy, who was used to roaming alone and defending himself against those bigger and stronger than he was. He also had that hint of mischeif and rebellion in his eyes that meant that, although he was forced to comply with the Dursley totalitarian regime. Sirius liked to imagine him as a Marauder in the making.

It was interesting to Sirius that Harry accepted the idea of an overly intelligent dog so easily. Perhaps he was just used to strange things happening around him, although he did not know about magic, or maybe, Sirius thought darkly, he was just so desperate for a friend that he didn't care. Probably a mixture of the two.

Even though he had promised to befriend and protect Harry, Sirius was desperate to see what his old

friends were up to. He visited Remus first, being sure to keep out of sight of course, in case Remus recognised him. It pained him to admit it, but Remus believed him to be a murdering traitor and wouldn't hesitate to lock him up again. He could not count on Remus' help or support as he could when they were young, not until his innocence had been proven, then they could be friends again and the Marauders might live once more.

Sometimes Remus felt so old. It was not a feeling he unfamiliar with, he had had to mature very quickly due to his condition and often felt older than those around him. He knew the strain it had put him under had led to premature ageing and he had recently found the first flecks of grey in his hair. It didn't bother him, he had never been vain. What had got to him this time was the recent escape of Sirius Black from Azkaban. It had brought back memories that he thought he had long since buried. The feelings of despair and betrayal had all come flooding back. Sirius had played his part so well, none of them could have suspected the truth, not even James. The questions that he had so often asked and that could never be answered floated once more into his mind. When had he turned? Was he planning Harry's death as he had been named godfather to the boy? He had rebelled from his family's ideals so early on, when had he turned back to them? Remus' only comfort was that wherever Dumbledore had put Harry, Harry was safe from the man who had sworn to protect him at all costs. He didn't know where Harry had been taken, Dumbledore wanted as few people as possible to know, for Harry's own safety and Remus had wholeheartedly agreed with Dumbledore, even though he had hoped he might be able to visit Harry, as he had used too. He fondly remembered the small, beautiful boy who had brought a light to all their eyes which were too often lined with worry. Also, he thought grimly, a feeling he was far too used to.

In addition to going old and trapped in the past Remus had decided he was going mad. He had seen, or had thought he had seen, a bear like dog that looked, if a bit ragged, exactly like Sirius had looked when he transformed. The dog had stared at him with huge, doleful yellow eyes, exactly the way Sirius had looked when he had done something he knew that Remus wouldn't approve of. It had enthusiastically ran towards Remus before halting, as if it had realised that it shouldn't be there, and then, with the panicked look of a hunted dog, it had disappeared into the trees. Remus shook his head. It was merely his imagination that had imprinted characteristics he knew so well on some stray. Wishful thinking perhaps. He so desperately wanted to see the Sirius he knew but Sirius, the Sirius he didn't know, the mass murderer, would have never have visited him, would have never had the inclination to visit his old friend or to expect help from him. That Sirius, if he had run across him, would have, if he had realised he had been recognised, silenced him as swiftly and as brutally as he did that street full of people so long ago. Peter,thought Remus, poor Peter, who always so desperately wanted to prove himself as brave and as skilled as James, himself and, he felt the bitterness coursing through his veins, Sirius. How Peter had idolized James and Sirius, they all had, even when he sometimes disapproved of their actions. He was once again swamped with memories of a happier time and Remus sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Padfoot had been gone a few days, and Harry sadly submitted to the extra bullying he received from Dudley, to make up for that time he had missed whilst Padfoot had been around. He endured Aunt Petunia's smug remarks about mangy strays. He stayed silent when Uncle Vernon punished him for something he was sure wasn't his fault, although this wasn't his old silence of his silent rebellion, but the silence of defeat. He should have known better than to think his new friend would stick around for very long, they all went away in the end. Padfoot had probably found someone new and exiting to play with, who had proper dog toys and who wasn't a freak with no friends.

Padfoot, however, did come back in the end, although he seemed sad and just flopped beside Harry instead of playing with him like he usually did. Harry, glad of his return, his silent rebellion back on track, consented to idly scratching behind Padfoot's ears as they sat on the pavement together, each lost in their own thoughts. Padfoot's angry and sad, Harry's triumphant and happy that his friend had not abandoned him after all.

It had been stupid to go and see Remus. Sirius had completely forgotten that he was meant to be in hiding and almost gone up to Remus, worst of all, Remus had seen him. Would Remus recognise him after all these years? Sirius wouldn't have been surprised if he had, in fact, he was sure of he had. Sirius hadn't visited anyone else after that, it was safer to stay here, where no one would look for him, where he couldn't make any stupid mistakes.

He had been so desperate though, so desperate to regain his old friend, to run with Moony once more, to be young and innocent. To not feel the gnawing of pain in his stomach every day and night. He wanted his innocence to be recognised, not by the Ministry, although that, of course, would be nice, but by the people who mattered, by his friends. Sirius had felt so keenly that if only he could talk to Remus he could persuade him that he lost all sense and been seen. It was his own fault though, he had not trusted Remus when it had mattered, had thought Remus was the spy when in fact it was the rat. Had not told him the vital information about the switch. It was, therefore, his own fault this had all happened. He had made the mistake, had trusted the wrong person, had got James killed. How could he look after James' son when he was responsible for his father's death? Sirius gave himself a mental slap. That was Azkaban talk. Besides, Harry needed him just as much as he needed Harry. He could tell that Harry had been miserable while he had been gone and that Dudley had taken advantage of his absence. Sirius resolved never to leave Harry again.


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius had been around Harry for a few months now and he was an integral part of Harry's life. He had even managed to sneak into Harry's cupboard on a number of occasions, to both Harry's and his delight. The only problem was that he was getting impatient. Although he enjoyed being around Harry, making friends with him, watching him grow and protecting him from harm, he wanted to make friends with Harry, properly make friends. Not just a boy and dog friendship. Sirius had been battling with himself for quite sometime, should he reveal himself? Would the sight of his trusted companion turning into a man scare him off? And, the question that he wrestled most of all, should he attempt to take Harry away with him? He knew Harry was safe here, he had felt all sorts of protective spells around Harry that were linked with this house, this family. Sirius longed to whisk Harry away from his oppressive family, teach him about the wizarding world and his parents. Help him grow as the father figure Sirius longed to be, but Harry, although miserable, was safe here. That was the great problem he was battling with, the one thing that he was going over and over in his mind. If he took him away he would put Harry in danger from all sorts of things. It wouldn't be an easy life, it would be a life on the run, hard and difficult, with little food or comfort. Sirius eventually decided to show Harry his true self. If Harry wanted to stay here, he would be contented to stay his friend. If Harry wanted to run away with him, he would be ecstatic. If Harry rejected him Sirius knew he wouldn't cope, but he was prepared to take that risk.

One fairly ordinary day Harry was playing with Padfoot when he beckoned Harry to follow him. They had worked out a fairly complex sign language over the months and Harry immediately understood. Harry followed. Padfoot took him into the woods, further away from the Durleys than they had ever been before without permission, when he stopped abruptly, and sniffed the air, checking for any other people. He then turned to Harry, seeming apprehensive, if it was possible for a dog to be apprehensive, signalled to Harry to stay still and started to change. Harry's instinctive reaction was to jump back, run away from whatever was happening, but, as he was sprawled on the woodland ground, he paused in his desperate attempt to escape and began to watch out of a morbid fascination. Soon, a man stood before him. He had shoulder length hair, which looked like it had been cut with a pair of kitchen scissors, as Harry's often was. He wore mismatching clothes, a long, oversized, pinstriped jacket which billowed about him, a black shirt, some tatty jeans and boots. Harry couldn't help but notice that he, for a man, looked extraordinarily like a dog. He looked at Harry with a nervous air, awaiting his approval or rejection.

"A - are – are you ... Padfoot?" he asked the man and the man, Padfoot, nodded, watching him closely.

"I can explain," said Padfoot, in a hoarse voice that sounded like it hadn't been used in a long time.

"Go on then," replied Harry, thinking that if Padfoot managed to explain _that_ then anything was possible.

"I'm a wizard and I'm an Animagus, that means I can turn into a dog when I want to," replied Padfoot, "you're a wizard too, Harry, but you've been living among Muggles, that's our name for non magic people," he stopped, Harry had started to shake his head, disbelieving.

"No no, I'm not, I - I can't be. If I was a wizard then Dudley and his gang wouldn't bully me, I'd just ... just magic them away or something. You've got the wrong person," Padfoot, to his surprise, laughed.

"That'd be some pretty advanced magic, but, just think. Has nothing ever happened when you were angry or scared. Like the time the kitchen blew up. Something you couldn't explain, something the Dursleys punished you for even though you were sure it couldn't be your fault," at this Harry jerked up.

"They know?" Padfoot nodded, "All this time and they didn't tell me? Why?"

"They're a rotten lot, the folks you live with. If I had my way you wouldn't be with them at all. Your mum was a witch born to a family of Muggles, it happens sometimes, we call them Muggle-borns. Some people," at this his face darkened, and his voice was bitter, "some people think that Muggle-borns are somehow inferior to them and call them Mudbloods, but don't you go listening to them. They're the biggest idiots you'll ever come across, and that includes Dudley. Lily was one of the most extraordinarily gifted witches I've ever come across, and one of the kindest people I've ever had the fortune to meet. Anyway, your mum was a Muggle-born and her sister, your aunt decided she was a freak, so they fell out. That's why she hates you. Your mum went to the wizard school called Hogwarts and that's where she met your dad," Padfoot grinned, "he was my best friend and partner in crime, was James, we were like brothers. He was the greatest man I ever knew. You're are like him in so many ways, and believe me, that's the highest compliment I can give you. Anyway, we left school and there was a war. There was one wizard, he was evil, more than. He was gathering followers and taking over everywhere. We decided we had to fight, your mum and dad, me and a couple of other friends. I'll tell you about them later. Then … then there was this … the wizard decided to ... kill them. No one survived once he decided to kill them, no matter the protections. We tried, but we … I … failed," there were tears in Padfoot's eyes, "no one except you, that is, no one knows why. That night something about you stopped him, the curse that was meant to kill you rebounded on Voldemort, that's evil wizard's name, though most people don't like it if you say it, and no one's heard or seen him since. Every now and again there'll be a rumour that he's in Albania or something but that's all. Some say he died, but that's just wishful thinking, he's out there, barely alive. That's how you got that scar of yours. You and that scar are famous in our world. I expect that Dumbledore, that's the Hogwarts headmaster, and the greatest headmaster there has ever been, has a few ideas, on how you survived and what happened to Voldemort. He usually knows more than the rest of us, but he keeps that information to himself."

Padfoot took a great, rattling breath and was obviously trying to reign in tears. He gave Harry a watery smile as Harry struggled to take everything in, "And so to me. Padfoot isn't my real name, it's just a nickname I had at school. It's a long story, I'll tell you it sometime. My real name is Sirius Black. Like I said, I was you dad's best friend, I was best man at your mum and dad's wedding and I'm your godfather, if you'll have me. Anyway, I was framed for betraying your parents to Voldemort, and murdering a bunch of people. Muggles mostly, but I was framed, it wasn't me," he looked at Harry desperately, "you do believe me?" Harry nodded, after all, if he couldn't trust Padfoot who could he trust? "The man who really betrayed your parents was another old school friend and his name is Peter Pettigrew. Most people think I killed him, I wish I had, the little rat. Anyway I escaped from Azkaban, that's the wizard prison, and I'm on the run. I had to see you Harry."

"You escaped from prison just to see _me_?" asked Harry, amazed, Sirius chuckled.

"Yeah," Sirius hesitated, then he said, very quickly, "I was wondering, I mean I'd understand if you didn't, I wasn't planning to, but it'd be wonderful if you did, obviously," he took a deep breath, "I was wondering if maybe you might want to come live with me?" Harry jumped up.

"Are you kidding? Of course I want to live with you, I hate it here, you know I hate it here. Have you got a house? When can I move in?" Sirius suddenly looked very serious.

"It wouldn't be an easy life Harry, I told you, I'm on the run. It would dangerous and difficult. Also, you're safe here, whilst you are with the Dursleys it would literally be impossible for anybody to harm you. I need you to be sure."

"Of course I'm sure," replied Harry, "besides, you're my godfather, that means you have more of a right to look after me than the Dursleys do, and anyway," he grinned, "what's life without a little risk?" Sirius grinned back.

"You know James would have said the exact same thing. I don't know if anyone's ever told you Harry, but you look so much like James, except for your eyes, you have Lily's eyes."

Their discussion continued for hours, but they barely noticed the time passing. Sirius told Harry of the Marauders and of how it all started, after getting Harry to swear never to tell another living soul. Harry readily agreed, after all, even if he wanted to, who would he tell? Sirius eagerly listened Harry's tales of his silent rebellion against the Dursleys and proudly pronounced Harry a fine Marauder in the making. Harry had swelled with pride and asked whether that meant he got to learn how to change into an animal, Sirius had laughed and said that Harry was aiming high, that would come later, and besides, they had only managed it in their fifth year. Harry had pouted and so Sirius promised to buy him a broomstick.

Harry was given a sharp whack when he eventually arrived back to the Dursley's and was sent straight to the cupboard with no food but he didn't care. He had Sirius, he had someone who cared for him, someone who loved him and he had the hope for a better future. Harry drifted off to sleep, his head filled with dreams of the wizard world, of Diagon Alley and Hogwarts. He dreamed of spells, flying and Quidditch. He dreamed of adventures with werewolves and of his parents.

Professor Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and popped a lemon sherbet into his mouth. Sirius Black hadn't been sighted in quite some time and Dumbledore felt sure that if he was planning something he would have attempted it by now, nevertheless it was always good practice to remain vigilant, as Alastor had reminded him the other day when he had suggested the possibility of lowering the defences. Alastor had given him quite a stern lecture and Dumbledore felt every bit the naughty pupil, it was a feeling he hadn't had in a long time and he had quite enjoyed. Nevertheless, Dumbledore conceded, he had a point, even if Alastor was a touch paranoid.

Dumbledore had kept in constant contact with all of Black's old friends and allies on the off chance that he might come to them for help. A few months back, when he had just escaped, Remus had reported that he had seen him, but that he had probably just imagined it. Dumbledore had agreed with him, but Remus' manner had alerted him to a much deeper problem. Remus never put forward and opinion unless he was entirely sure of it and was always in complete control of his emotions, both traits a result of living with his condition. So to see Remus as he had appeared that day, distracted, near collapse and unsure of what he had seen had distressed Dumbledore greatly. Remus had taken so long to get over Sirius betrayal, and Dumbledore didn't think that he had ever truly recovered. Now Sirius' escape had brought up all those old feelings in Remus. Dumbledore had made sure he visited Remus regularly after that and slowly he had pieced himself back together. If Dumbledore had retained any of his fond feelings for Sirius they were now completely crushed. Sirius had destroyed his friends so completely Dumbledore could feel nothing but anger towards him.

On the positive side, he was sure that Sirius couldn't get near Harry. He had checked regularly to see if Lily's sacrifice was still protecting Harry, and was pleased to see that it was, not that he had expected any different. If he was right, and he usually was, Harry would be protected until his seventeenth birthday. Nothing that wanted to seriously harm Harry could get near him. He had refrained from checking on Harry himself, but merely assured himself that Harry was alive and well enough, for fear that he might be tempted to take the boy away with him. If Dumbledore had checked up on Harry personally he might have noticed a certain big black dog that had made firm friends with Harry, but he didn't, so he remained unaware of Sirius and Harry's friendship, and of their plans to run away.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry had been missing for three weeks and Remus, who had been wrestling with his conscience for some time, was now waiting outside Dumbledore's office. He was still trying to persuade himself to turn back and continue to cover up his betrayal of trust. The door opened and Remus entered, feeling every bit the schoolboy in trouble, which was strangely fitting, but that didn't make Remus feel any better. The office, however, was empty, and Remus wondered why he had been allowed in. The thought was cut short as Dumbledore appeared behind him, giving him that intense, piercing look of his. Remus felt, if it was even possible, even worse. "You said you had something to tell me Remus?" Dumbledore asked lightly, his tone belying belying the look in his eyes, Remus wondered whether Dumbledore did it deliberately, to put people on the edge so he would have the upper hand. Remus took a deep breath, this was it. He idly wondered whether Dumbledore would ever trust him again.

"Sirius Black is an illegal Animagus," and with that it all came out. His desperate search for friends. James and Sirius figuring out what his symptoms meant towards the of their second year, his friend's impossible acceptance of him. The feeling of truly belonging for the first time in his life. Their subsequent nickname for him and their offer to help in a way that he could not refuse, although he had tried to talk them out of it, saying it was too difficult, too dangerous. Them, even poor Peter proving him wrong and becoming Animagi in their fifth year. The birth of the Marauders, bonded together forever, closer than family, or so he had thought.

Throughout his confession Dumbledore had stayed silent, until, finally, when he had no more energy, Dumbledore spoke. "Facinating, we always did wonder where the nicknames came from. Not yours of course, that was obvious to those who knew, but this does explain a lot. I shall have to tell Minerva. The great secret of the Marauders is revealed. It also possibly explains how Sirius escaped from Azkaban," Remus hung his head, this was what he was dreading, that he was responsible for Sirius' escape, Dumbledore noticed his expression, "I don't blame you Remus, you were young and clever. For the first time you had friends, and not just any friends, but friends who would do anything for you, anything to ease your suffering. If you had asked I would have encouraged you, there was no Wolfsbane Potion then, no other way to relieve your pain. There was no way you could have seen how it would all turn out. No way you could have guessed what Sirius would become. Look at me. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault."

Remus walked away from Dumbledore's office feeling lighter. He could not quite believe that he had finally told Dumbledore his great shame and Dumbledore had not been angry with him, in fact he had told him he _understood _what he had done. Understood his betrayal, condoned and encouraged it in fact. Dumbledore's capacity to trust often blew him away, and this was one of those times. He was not to blame for Sirius' escape, according to Dumbledore, and that was good enough for him. Good enough for anyone.

Sirius had, much to his own disgust, decided that the safest place for Harry and him to stay was his old family home, at least, for the time being. Someone would eventually think to look there and he wasn't sure he could stand being being back for much longer anyway.

Sirius had found Harry the cleanest room in the house, which wasn't saying much. The old house elf had gone mad since he'd been gone and nothing had been cleaned in at least a decade, but Sirius managed to make Harry's room at least habitable. Sirius had also forbidden Kreacher from telling anyone he was here, telling anyone Harry was here, and just to make sure, he told him not to talk to, or pass on any kind of message to anyone other than Harry and himself. Sirius watched as Kreacher tried to find a way around his orders and felt a guilty, vindictive pleasure when he gave up.

Harry, despite Sirius' own opinion, thought this was the best house in the world. It was the complete opposite of the Dursley's house, it was filthy, dark, and was full to the brim with magic. There were pictures that moved and talked, Harry did his best to ignore what they said, they called him all sorts of names, most of which he didn't understand and Sirius only explained when he promised never to repeat them. The portrait of Sirius' mother had to be crept past or it would scream about filth and vermin. Sirius had laughed for hours when Harry had told her that the only filth or vermin around was her, unfortunately, they had nearly gone deaf due to the portrait's subsequent screaming.

There was the house elf, Kreacher, who was possibly the oddest creature Harry had ever seen, not that he had seen much. He shuffled around the house, muttering under his breath about his precious mistress, as though he didn't realise they could hear him. Sirius had told him that the only reason he didn't get rid of Kreacher was that he knew too much and Sirius didn't trust him not to find a way around his orders not to tell anyone about his presence in the house.

There was the self cleaning cutlery, which Harry, who had spent a lifetime cleaning up after the Dursleys, thought was wonderful. Sirius had delighted in Harry's wonder at what he considered to be simple things and had shown him as many spells as he could. One evening Sirius had levitated Harry up to the ceiling, and an interesting game of catch had occurred. Sirius had pronounced Harry naturally gifted and told him he would make a fine Quidditch player in his time. This had led to Harry's obsession with getting a broom and Sirius promised to get him one as soon as possible. Sometimes Harry was so much like James, it was impossible for Sirius to refuse him anything, not that Sirius wanted to. Sirius had decided early on that Harry was to be spoilt as much as possible, although it was perhaps not the best parenting tactic, Sirius wanted Harry to forget the pain of living with the Dursleys.

There were strange objects that lined shelves and lurked in the cupboards. Sirius had made Harry promise not to touch any of them until Sirius had had a look at them and made sure they were safe, or destroyed them if they weren't. Once Sirius had tackled a rattling wardrobe which, when it burst open, had produced Harry, dead and bloody. It had pointed a broken finger at Sirius and said, "Your fault. Your fault. You promised to look after me." Sirius had muttered a word and Harry turned into the Harry he was now, happy and playing, but Harry, the real Harry, had held a sobbing Sirius for hours afterwards. That night Harry made a promise to himself. He had lost his real parents, he would not lose Sirius or let Sirius lose him.

Once, during his recurring nightmare of what he now realised were his parents murder, he had unleashed some uncontrolled magic, which Sirius assured him was completely normal for a young wizard, and set his room on a fire. Sirius had taken a full half an hour to put out completely, after which he had looked at a frightened Harry and told him, half admiringly, that what he had just done was very advanced magic for his age, then laughed and said, "You're brilliant Harry, and just a little scary," Sirius later theorised that it the shock of learning that his parents had been betrayed and murdered that had awoken the nightmare and caused his extreme reaction to it, and felt guilty for having exposed Harry to the horrifying truth. Harry had objected, saying that he had the right to know, no matter how it made him feel, and Sirius, after a little persuasion, had agreed.

Harry, despite his nightmare, was happier than he had ever been before in his life, but Sirius remained troubled. Although he loved Harry to bits, and remained convinced that any place was better for Harry than the Dursleys, a sentiment that Harry wholeheartedly agreed with, he couldn't help being worried that he would one day lead Harry into danger. Worried that Harry would get hurt, or worse, and it would be his fault. At night, when Harry was asleep and unable to comfort him, he tortured himself with the images of Harry's broken body lying lifeless on the ground, and himself as unable to save him as he had been unable to save his parents. His only comfort was that this Harry was unable to speak the words that the Boggart Harry had.

Dumbledore was pacing his office. Remus's news was unexpected, although it did explain Remus' behaviour ever since Sirius Back's escape, his ever present anxiety which could not be solely explained by his and Sirius' old friendship. The information itself, however, raised more questions than it solved. Although Sirius had plenty of ways to disguise himself as a human, those could be beaten, however finding a large black dog, however distinctive, was rather more problematic. For one the Dementors that were currently searching for Sirius Black would not be able to detect him as easily, not that he trusted the Dementors.

The other problem, and surely the one that had convinced Remus to divulge his secret, was that of Harry Potter's disappearance, which was most likely linked to Sirius' reappearance, although not he would not rule out the other options. Dumbledore had immediately visited the Dursleys after Mrs Figg had reported that Harry was missing. Several things had puzzled him, firstly, Lily's protection hadn't come into affect which meant that there was nothing that had wished to harm Harry. Secondly, Mrs Figg had told him that in the months preceding the disappearance Harry had made friends with a large black dog, which she had considered harmless, even positive, after all, Harry needed friends, even if it was with a dog rather than a human. The dog in question, however, had disappeared around the same time as Harry had and she now considered the friendship rather more sinister.

In the light of Remus' information, this dog was almost certainly Sirius Black. If, however, Sirius had wanted to harm Harry, and most people tended to think he did, he would have had ample opportunity during the numerous months he had befriended him. Also, if his intention was to seriously harm Harry, and especially if it was to kill him, Lily's protection would have prevented him from doing so. Had Harry simply run away by himself? Although possible, it was unlikely, he was only nine years old after all. If, and he considered it safe to assume, the dog was Sirius, then what was he doing befriending Harry if his intention was to harm? Was it guilt over betraying James and Lily? Or, and he hardly dared to think it, could the impossible be true, could Sirius Black be innocent? Dumbledore took a steadying breath and decided he had to investigate further before he could conclude anything, the problem was, and it was a very unusual problem for him, he had no idea where to start.

Peter Pettigrew felt an emotion he had not felt in a long time – guilt. He had heard from his curiously well informed family that Sirius had kidnapped Harry, and Peter knew why. He had destroyed his old friend's life to such an extent that his best friend's son was the only thing he had left to live for. He had regretted his actions in the past because he had lost everything through them, He Who Must Not Be Named had not been the right side to back if he wanted power. Then again, if he had not led Him to the Potter's then He would still be in power, so either way he would have lost. Before he had only regretted the betrayal because of the consequences to him, but Sirius' actions had touched him in a way he had not been prepared for. For once he was not thinking of himself but silently willing Sirius and little Harry on, hoping that they were happy. His new found empathy would not, however, convince him to give himself up. His first concern would always be himself and himself only.


	5. Chapter 5

Years had passed and all hope of recovering Harry was lost. Over the years Dumbledore had searched every possible place he could think of, he had even gone to Sirius' old family home but had found it as derelict and abandoned as ever. He only hoped that his instinct had been right and that Harry was safe. He would find out soon enough. If Harry was alive then a Hogwarts letter would automatically be sent to him, if he was dead then no letter would be sent, but he had no way of finding out until then. Even he, as Headmaster of the school, could not cheat and take a peek at the Book of Names. Minerva entered the study and asked the silent question they had been asking for years, "A few months," he told her, "a few months and we'll know. One way or the other," she nodded, and he knew that she felt the same way he did, both dreading and impatiently waiting for the verdict. Dead or alive. It was a terrible wait, and he felt useless trapped in his office but he had no other leads on Harry Potter's whereabouts or fate. He hoped, of course, that Harry was alive and well but he could do no more than wait and hope. Minerva left the study, having long ago given up making up excuses to visit his study and ask her silent question.

It happened by pure chance in the end. Remus Lupin had been wandering aimlessly, as he often did, having found himself once again unemployed. He had happened to spot a large, distinctive, black dog. A black dog that he had seen thousands of times, a black dog that he would have been able to pick out of a line up of big black dogs. A black dog that was actually Sirius Black. Remus stiffened, for a moment unsure of what to do, but that quickly passed. Being sure to keep upwind of Sirius, for he knew that as surely as he knew Sirius in his dog shape, Sirius, in turn, would know his smell. He followed Sirius into Grimmauld Place and for a moment was a astounded by the genius of Sirius choosing his old family home as his hiding place. Remus followed him in, watched him transform and got out his wand. He had always prided himself on his control over his emotions, but he felt his control slowly slipping away as he saw his one time friend smile as if he had the right to be happy.

Remus pointed his wand, his hand shaking, straight at Sirius' face. He could hardly believe he was threatening Sirius, it felt disloyal somehow, although he knew that was ridiculous. Sirius was the traitor. Sirius was the murderer. Sirius was also the better dueler and Remus knew that pointing a wand at Sirius was practically suicide. Remus was too angry to care. "Remus please," Sirius said, raising his hands, "I'm innocent, you've got to believe me. I'd never hurt a hair on Harry's head, you can ask him. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them" Remus gave a desperate laugh.

"So James, Lily and Peter dropped dead of their own accord did they? Just got up one morning and thought, I know, I'll leave my only son orphaned and make it look like my best friend killed me?" he asked sarcastically, with barely suppressed rage. "They trusted you Sirius and you killed them. I'm sorry, I really am truly sorry, and I wish things could be different, but it's over. It's all over," he said the first curse that came to mind but then Harry came charging out of nowhere, his small face set with determination. He launched himself in front of Sirius as Remus' curse shot from his wand. He was hit in the chest and thrown back onto the floor where he lay, motionless.

"HARRY!" bellowed Sirius and he knelt beside him, deliberately shielding him with his body. He whipped out his own wand and started muttering counter curses. Slowly Harry came round, his eyes flickering and a ghost of a smile playing around his lips. "You stupid, brilliant, beautiful boy," said Sirius, his hands trembling, "what did you do that for?" Harry stopped smiling and looked contrite, an unspoken question in his eyes. "I'm not angry at you Harry," Sirius said, "I was just scared, you could have been very badly hurt. You could have … just leave the fighting to me OK?" Harry looked rebellious, but nodded. Sirius drew the small boy towards him in a tight hug and buried his head in Harry's neck, gently rocking him back and forth.

Remus stood back, stunned, his wand hanging uselessly by his side, not quite believing what he was seeing. The part of his mind that was still working told him three things. One, that Sirius had his wand on him and had chosen not to use it, but instead had tried to reason with him. This didn't fit with the view of Sirius Black as ruthless murderer, who didn't care who he killed. For whatever reason, Sirius didn't want to hurt him.

Two, Sirius was obviously very fond of Harry; he had looked devastated and enraged when the curse had hit Harry instead of him. Curiously enough, it was the first time in the whole confrontation when Remus had thought that Sirius might attack him, when somebody he claimed to care for had been hurt. He was now tenderly cradling the boy in his arms, muttering words of comfort, his body shielding him from any further harm. Sirius looked every bit the devoted godfather and Remus could see the man who had sworn to protect Harry, at whatever cost. He could see the man he knew.

Three, Harry, in turn, was obviously very fond of Sirius and had been prepared to take the curse for him, which meant that Harry and Sirius obviously had a close, loving relationship and Harry was prepared to protect Sirius at whatever cost. Harry had, far from being afraid when he had thought Sirius was angry at him, had seemed afraid of disappointing him, which was an entirely different thing. It had struck him how, in that small moment, Harry had looked so very like James, rushing to Sirius' defence. Then the moment had passed and Harry was the young fragile boy again who Sirius had promised to protect.

All this lead Remus to conclude one thing, one impossible thing, the only thing that made any sense to Remus. That Sirius had been telling the truth and he was innocent. He knelt down beside Sirius and Harry, deliberately placing his wand away from him on the ground and raising his hands. He spoke in a low, even tone, "Tell me everything."

Sirius turned to face Remus for the first time since Harry had been hurt. He wore an incredulous smile, "Really? You believe me?" Remus nodded and Sirius' face exploded into a mischievous grin that Remus knew so well. "Moony my old friend," he said grandly, "I will tell you everything, it is a thrilling tale, even if I say it myself, but first I need a drink." He heaved himself up, pulling Harry with him, and wandered over to the kitchen. Remus watched, amused, Sirius and Harry engaged in a exaggerated fight. Harry had been trying to sneak himself a Firewhiskey, which Sirius had spotted and mock sternly told him to put back. Remus was slightly worried that he would actually let Harry have the Firewhiskey, he now had no doubt that Sirius' heart was in the right place, but he had never seen Sirius as the ideal parent. More as the mischievous godfather, a role he would have played so well, had he the chance. Remus quickly realised that this was an old game between them, and Harry ended up with a small Butterbeer, and Sirius had the Firewhisky. Sirius offered Remus a Butterbeer and he gladly accepted.

They moved, in a talking, laughing jumble to another room, which had comfy chairs and a fire. Sirius idly lit the fire, which Harry immediately sat beside and watched. Remus watched Sirius look at Harry with a fierce affection, as he tried not to look proud that he had produced something that had captured Harry's imagination. Sirius dragged his eyes back to Remus, his face solemn, "We heard," he glanced at Harry, "we heard that Voldemort was after James and Lily and so they made me their Secret Keeper. You know that much, but what you don't know, is that we changed Secret-Keeper. I thought that Voldemort would be bound to suspect that I was the Secret-Keeper and come after me, so we changed to Peter," Sirius voice grew heavy, and a distant look came into his eyes, "it was me who persuaded them to change, thought it was the perfect double bluff. The night they died I checked on Peter, make sure he was all right, but he was gone. No sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right and I was scared. I set out to Godric's Hollow straight away. When I saw their house destroyed and their bodies," he shuddered, "you're lucky Remus, you never had to see their bodies, all broken," he paused again, "I realised what Peter had done, what I had done," he turned away and Remus forced Sirius to look at him.

"It wasn't your fault Sirius, it was Peter's. You were trying to save them when you suggested Peter as Secret-Keeper. You weren't to know what he was," Sirius gave a bitter laugh.

"Do you want to know why we didn't tell you about the switch Remus? We thought you were the spy. Come to think of it, the only reason we thought you were the spy was because Peter suggested it."

"There," said Remus, "that was Peter's fault. You thought I was the spy because of Peter. James and Lily are dead because of Peter. Unfortunately there is no way of proving your innocence without Peter and he's -"

"Oh he's alive," growled Sirius, "anyway, I was at the house, James and Lily dead, and then I saw this little survivor," he nodded at Harry, who smiled back, obviously having heard this story before, "I saw Harry, alive, and I thought that I might have something to live for again. Then Hagrid arrived. He said he had to take Harry, said he was on Dumbledore's orders, then I realised what Dumbledore must have thought. What everyone thought. I gave Hagrid my bike, it was too recognisable. Then I went after Peter. I just wanted to make him pay, didn't care about much else, didn't really care about happened to me. I cornered him in a street but he yelled for the whole world to hear that I had betrayed Lily and James. Then he blew up the street, cutting his own finger off in the process and scuttling down the sewer as a rat. I think I was pretty unhinged by that point. Everything I loved had been taken away in an instant. I remember laughing, and thinking it was odd, because there really was nothing to laugh about." Remus realised with a jolt that Harry had moved over to Sirius and was now holding him.

"You've got me," Harry said, in his small, determined voice, "you've still got me." Sirius nodded and took a breath to continue.

"I was taken to Azkaban, as you know. I survived because I knew I was innocent, it wasn't a happy thought so the Dementors couldn't take it from me, but it kept me sane. When it … got too much I could change into a dog. Then one day, it was strange, but I realised I couldn't remember what Harry looked like. It was like someone had lit a fire inside me. I had to know my godson. I slipped through the bars as a dog, I was so thin by that time, and swam to land. I found Harry, he was staying with Lily's sister, Petunia and family," here Harry shivered and a brief look of hatred passed his otherwise happy features, Sirius held Harry to him, "I made friends with him as a dog, I was the only friend he had. His cousin made sure he didn't have any others. He was kept as downtrodden as possible, you remember how much Petunia hated magic. Anyway, after a few months, I transformed and invited Harry to run away with me. I knew he was safer there, but I couldn't leave him there, not the way he was being treated," he glanced around the room with distaste, "we've been staying here ever since. We've managed to make it vaguely habitable."

"You must hate having to be back here," Sirius started, as if he'd forgotten Remus was there and gave a quick nod.

"Tell me what you've been up to," he said, keen to move on, "tell us about the outside world."

"Not much happening with me," Remus said lightly, "the usual, moving from job to job, doing what I can. Dumbledore helps me out when he can of course, but there's only so much he can do. As for the world in general, it goes on as it always has. The desperate search for mass murderer Sirius Black has died down since he hasn't murdered anyone lately," he gave Sirius a sly smile, it was strange, only a few minutes ago and 'the search for Sirius Black' had occupied his every thought, now it seemed slightly silly, "Dumbledore is still searching for Harry … I'll have to let him know Harry's in good hands. I think Dumbledore was resigned to finding out when Harry got his letter anyway."

Dumbledore received a slightly bedraggled tawny owl and untied the letter from it's leg. It was a small note, scribbled hastily. All it said was _HP found. Must talk ASAP. Utmost secrecy required. RL._ Dumbledore felt an excitement unlike anything he had felt in a long time. He gave a slight nod to the fire and Remus emerged, who gave him a wild smile, a strange glint in his eye. He motioned for Remus to begin, too eager to hear his story to bother with social niceties.

"Sirius Black is innocent." Dumbledore gave a small smile, then leaned forward.

"Tell me everything."


	6. Chapter 6

"_Sirius Black is innocent." Dumbledore gave a small smile, then leaned forward._

"_Tell me everything."_

"I don't have any actual evidence," replied Remus, shifting from one foot to the other in a rare display of nerves, "it's just that, if you saw them, Sirius and Harry that is, you wouldn't be able to conclude anything else." Dumbledore nodded.

"I think you had better take me to them."

Sirius stood vaguely to attention as he watched his old headmaster emerge from the fire. They stood looking at one another, neither quite sure what to say when Harry stepped in front of Sirius, "If you're going to take Sirius away you'll have to take me too," he said firmly and Dumbledore burst out laughing, feeling a rush of affection for this boy he hadn't seen in so long, "I'm serious," said Harry indignantly, drawing himself up to his full height which, unfortunately for Harry, wasn't that high.

"I'm sure you are," he said kindly, but not patronisingly, his eyes twinkling, "but we have spent so long thinking that Sirius was the traitor that this is quite a turn up for the books. However," he turned back to Sirius, his face grave, "I'm not sure I approve of taking Harry from the Dursleys, he was safe there -"

"I hated it there," Harry said angrily, "they locked me in the cupboard without food and I had no friends because of them. They made my life hell because they thought I was a freak," he stuck his chin out in defiance, "there are more important things than safety. Besides," Harry's voice became cold and unmoveable, "it's not your decision any more. It's mine. I'm not a baby anymore Professor," he glared at Dumbledore with alarming ferocity for one so young. Dumbledore, after a moment, knelt down in front of Harry so they were the same height.

"I agree," he said wistfully, "I wondered at the time whether I was doing the right thing, whether you would ever forgive me for it. I believed your safety to be paramount, and at that place," he shuddered slightly as he trailed off, "I hoped I would not have to tell you so soon, but it seems I have no choice. The reason you survived that terrible night, the reason the curse rebounded and you survived was that your mother died to save you, and that was magic far deeper and more powerful than Voldemort ever knew or even acknowledged. That was love. Voldemort tried to kill you, but, because of your mother's sacrifice, the curse rebounded on Voldemort. That same sacrifice would still protect you as long as you lived with a blood relation of your mother's, and the only living relation was her sister, your Aunt Petunia. There are many who would wish to kill you Harry, Voldemort's old supporters who escaped Azkaban. They see you as responsible for their master's downfall and would seek revenge. That is why I considered your safety the most important consideration, but you are right, Harry, there are more important things. Your mother should have taught me that. The most important thing is love." Dumbledore stood again, now looking at Sirius, "Sirius, James and Lily named you as Harry's godfather, made you his guardian in the case of their deaths. I give you my word that I do all I can to clear your name and keep you and Harry together." Sirius nodded, unable to speak.

Dumbledore wondered quite what it was that convinced him that Sirius was innocent. As Remus had told him, there was no evidence, no evidence a court would accept any way, especially as the Ministry would be unwilling to admit that it had been wrong about Sirius and they had sent an innocent man to Azkaban without trial. There was just the simple fact that it was impossible to believe that the Sirius standing before them was guilty, but Dumbledore, despite his earlier words, had to be sure. Although he hated resorting to such methods, he could use Legilimency. Although it would be easier with his wand, he needed to be discreet and so he would have to perform the spell wandless. He quietly said, "Legilimens," and was plunged into Sirius' memories.

_Anger … pain … betrayal. Pettigrew. James ... Lily ... dead. Harry. Little Harry … helpless … alone. Revenge. Hatred consuming him. He allowed it to … easier than grief. Pettigrew escaped. Street blown to bits. People. Bodies. Rivers of blood. Nothing left to live for. Explosion of emotions … unable to control. Something unhinged in his mind. He was laughing … he couldn't stop … not sure why … nothing to laugh about. He couldn't stop. Little Wormtail had finally gotten one up on them. They would have died for their little Wormtail. Now they were. Darkness … Azkaban … I'm innocent … I'm innocent … I'm innocent._

Dumbledore withdrew from Sirius' mind quickly. There was no doubt, Sirius Black was innocent. Remus glanced at him, no doubt aware that he wouldn't take the evidence at face value. He nodded slightly and Remus smiled back with the quiet joy of one who cannot quite believe his luck. He ignored the fact that all the anger and betrayal he had felt towards Sirius must now be transferred onto Peter, towards whom he had always had a fond spot, like a forgiving older brother. That could be dealt with later, for now he would enjoy having Sirius back.

Peter Pettigrew munched on his food quite contentedly. He had been scared a few years ago when he had heard that Sirius had escaped. He had felt guilty, even, when Sirius had taken Harry, but he was quite sure the danger had passed. It was true that the Ministry hadn't caught him, although he knew that was because Sirius had the perfect disguise, just as he had. It was true that Sirius could, potentially, still find him and expose him, but Sirius hadn't been sighted in years. Sirius was alone, friendless and in hiding and, therefore, incapable of hunting for a rat. As long as people believed in Sirius' guilt then he was safe, and he was sure that they would, after all there was no reason why they wouldn't. As long as Sirius remained alone and friendless he was safe. Peter drifted off too sleep. All was well.

The Dementors are different to humans in many ways; they do not sleep and they do not feel pain. The biggest difference is their inability to feel love or know friendship, they live for the hunt. They do not know the difference between happy memories and sad memories, only what is food and what is not food. The Dementors are simple creatures in many ways, even though they feed on complex emotions and possess a fierce intelligence. They have no sense of loyalty, but will follow those who feed them, obey whatever orders they might be given if those orders lead to food. They guard Azkaban because Azkaban gives them a delicious supply of food. Every now and then a person leaves because the wizards command it, they do not like it, but, for this tenuous alliance between wizard and Dementor to continue, they must accept it. Now one had escaped Azkaban, one had done something no wizard has ever done before, something that was supposed to be impossible. A latent sense of pride had been reawakened inside the Dementors and they hunted relentlessly for the one who had escaped them. They hunted long after their wizard masters had all but given up, they never forgot the one who had cheated them. They never forgot their shame. The Dementors do not know his name, they do not understand names, but they know his feelings, his memories, his life and they will not rest until they have consumed it entirely.

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in her office marking an essay when Professor Dumbledore burst into her office, a huge grin on his face. McGonagall stood, thrown by this unusual behaviour. Dumbledore would never usually burst into her office, but knock first and this large grin was most unlike the Headmaster, who usually displayed a slightly odd whimsical sense of humour. Minerva could only think of one reason for Dumbledore's spectacularly good mood. She inclined her head just so and Dumbeldore nodded, "Harry is alive, he is safe and he is happy," she opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore interrupted her, "unfortunately Minerva, I cannot tell you who Harry is staying with, I can only tell you that he is loved and safe. I am sorry, but you must trust me on this." McGonagall nodded. She always trusted Dumbledore and she knew she would find out in due course. She looked back at the essay on human transfiguration she was marking and realised, to her surprise, that it wasn't as bad as she had thought it was and gave it an 'E'.

There was a tense silence in Grimmauld Place, eventually broken by Harry, "So you're Moony?" he asked. Remus nodded, "and you're a werewolf?"

"Once a month,"

"Why don't people like werewolves?"

"I don't know," said Remus dryly, "I guess people don't like the idea of people turning into a great, slavering, bloodthirsty monster once a month. I could be wrong," Harry frowned,

"But it's not your fault,"

"No it isn't," agreed Remus, a trace of bitterness in his voice that he had never managed to get over,

"Then people shouldn't treat you badly for it," the sheer indignation in Harry's voice made Remus grin,

"But they do. Don't worry about me Harry, I'm used to it,"

"You shouldn't have to be," said Harry, looking just as defiant and fierce as he had when he was talking to Dumbledore, "like I shouldn't have been used to the way the Dursleys treated me, but I was. It doesn't make it right. If things are wrong now then they've got to change, you've got to risk stuff, like when Sirius took me away from the Dursleys. We'll change what people think and Sirius will help," Remus was slightly shell shocked at Harry's declaration and didn't reply,

"The thing is," Sirius had whispered in Remus' ear later, "you might laugh at him or dismiss him now, but one day I think he really could change the world. He has a tendency to do anything he sets his mind to."

"I don't doubt it,"

Somewhere, deep in the forests of Albania, in a place where the creatures feared to go, a dark shadow stirred as a bumbling, foolish wizard strayed it's path and the shadow saw it's chance.

Lord Voldemort would rise again.


	7. Chapter 7

Remus had become a frequent visitor, and often joined forces with them in their battle against the house. He was, Harry noted, much better at identifying Dark objects than Sirius and dealt with them only after he had examined them safely. Sirius, on the other hand, operated on instinct and a vast knowledge of varied healing spells. Remus also often took the time to show Harry some of the more interesting things they found and gave Harry an old, battered book called _Defence for Beginners_ which Harry found fascinating. Remus had a quiet, wry sense of humour, which contrasted greatly with Sirius' loud, dramatic style.

Remus often ended up cooking when he visited since Sirius was banned from the kitchen after an incident when Sirius made a purple 'soup' which now lived behind one of the cupboards and growled at anyone who approached it. Kreacher would cook when Sirius ordered him to, but would never produce anything that was actually edible, no matter what Sirius did to him and Harry, although he could cook, after years of cooking for the Dursleys, was often banned from chores he was only too happy to do because neither Remus or Sirius wanted to treat Harry remotely like he had been treated at the Durleys. This meant that, when Remus wasn't there, they often got food from the local muggle takeaways.

Sirius left with Remus most full moons so Sirius could be with Remus when he transformed. Harry was fine with this, he had had to look after himself a lot when he lived with the Dursleys, and he knew that Remus' transformations were much easier when he was with Sirius as a dog, but he did miss them when they were gone. _One day_, he promised himself, _one day I'll learn to be an animagus and then I'll join them on the full moons. I wonder if I'll be a stag like my dad?_

Professor Dumbledore also occasionally visited, but much less often. Harry knew that he was responsible for keeping up a steady flow of misinformation to keep him and Sirius safe and he would have liked him just for that, but there was something about Dumbledore which made it simply impossible not to like him. Perhaps it was his slightly odd, whimsical sense of humour, or the way he listened to, and respected Harry's opinions. Although he was clearly a very powerful wizard, he did not flaunt it, or attempt to influence others by intimidating or impressing others with it. He was quite possibly the strangest man Harry had ever met, and yet Harry found him quite approachable.

Harry gave a secret smile as he curled up in his bed. They were forming their own little family. Sirius was like a father to him, Remus was like a uncle and Dumbledore, well, he wasn't quite sure what Dumbledore was but it was good.

Sirius stood at the door to Harry's bedroom, watching his sleeping godson. He still couldn't believe his luck. He had Harry, Remus and his freedom. His grief over James and Lily and anger towards Wormtail still infested his every thought, but his despair and desperate desire for revenge was dulled by happiness. Besides, he had known James better than anyone. He knew that Prongs would have wanted his best friend and his son safe and happy much more than he wanted his death to be avenged. He could allow himself to be happy.

Remus curled up in his own bed, amazed at how well he was feeling just after the full moon. He hadn't felt this well since his school days. He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to drift back to the time before war, before loss, to a time when the Marauders were kings. His mind drifted forwards again, to Sirius and Harry. Sirius was not the person he used to be, loss, grief, guilt and Azkaban had damaged Sirius beyond repair, and although Sirius was his friend, Remus had to admit that Sirius sometimes teetered on the edge of insanity. Both Remus and Sirius knew that the only thing holding him back was Harry.

Remus felt extreme happiness and sadness when he thought of Harry. Harry who had suffered so much at such a young age, lost both his parents in the most brutal way. The pain could have been less, perhaps even nonexistent, if Harry had been brought up in a family that loved him. But he hadn't. With the Dursleys he had known nothing but hate and pain, pain which still affected him despite Sirius' and his best efforts. And yet Harry had a remarkable capacity to love and trust despite his upbringing. He was the glue that held them all together.

Remus also found Harry an intelligent and engaging child, awakening the teacher in him and enjoyed spending long afternoons teaching him all he knew, although he found that Harry's natural skill was, like him, Defence Against the Dark Arts, although they couldn't do any practicals since Harry was too young and didn't have a wand. He had also displayed the usual bursts of magic that all young wizards did but Remus was pleased to say that, after a lot of time and effort, Remus had managed to teach some control over his instinctual magic. Harry had succeeded in breaking Sirius' mug whilst he was drinking from it. After they had spent a long time laughing about it, Sirius attempting to look annoyed, but failing, Harry had been exhausted and Remus worried that he was pushing Harry too far. Sirius told him not to worry.

The day Harry's letter arrived was a day that started like any other, then an owl that Sirius immediately recognised as one of the Hogwarts owls arrived and chaos reigned. Sirius grabbed the owl out of the air and ripped of the letter which did not please the owl, which immediately started pecking Sirius. "Harry," yelled Sirius, trying to shield himself with his arm, "Hogwarts letter. Get off me you stupid-" Harry heard a yelp of pain as he hurried down the stairs to see Sirius mid battle, but all of Harry's attention was drawn by the letter Sirius was holding with a very familiar crest on it,

"My letter!" Harry cried happily and leapt on Sirius. Sirius, who was already unbalanced by the owl promptly fell over. The owl saw this as the perfect opportunity to retreat, but neither Harry nor Sirius noticed as Harry ran off with his letter and tore it open.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Sirius ran over to join Harry as he read the long awaited contents of his letter. He noticed that while the first two pieces of parchment were the standard introduction letter and list of equipment, there was a third. After reading the first two Harry picked up the mysterious third and read.

_Dear Harry and Sirius,_

_I hope you are both well. The Ministry, and everybody else who is not Remus, you two or myself has been informed that Harry is currently staying with a wizard named 'Canis' and, for his own safety, as little information as possible is being released as to his whereabouts or the identity of 'Canis'. This will be Harry's cover story whilst at Hogwarts._

_As for Harry's equipment I have arranged for Hagrid to accompany Harry to Diagon Alley, Sirius should be able to accompany you as a dog. I think 'Snuffles' would be a good name for the dog. May I say, Harry, that it will be a pleasure to see you at Hogwarts at last._

_All the best,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Sirius was silent for a moment, then burst out, "I can't be called _Snuffles,_" Harry gave a mischievous grin,

"I think it suits you," he ruffled Sirius' hair, then ran away before Sirius could react.

_Dear Moony,_

_Got my Hogwarts letter today, with an extra letter from Professor Dumbledore. The cover story is that I'm staying with a man called 'Canis', but not much information is being released 'for my safety'. When Sirius is being Padfoot, he's to be called 'Snuffles'. Sirius isn't to pleased about it, so I think it would be very bad idea if you teased him about it, like if you gave him pink bows for his hair or called him 'Mr Snuffles' in a baby voice, because he might get upset by it._

_Thanks for the book on simple charms, I'll try some out when I get my wand. I tried some wandless like you suggested, but they didn't work._

_Harry_

Remus roared with laughter as he read Harry's letter. He had to love Professor Dumbledore's sense of humour, and Harry, well, he was James' son through and through Not to mention the fact that he had been brought up by Sirius.

_Dear Harry,_

_Don't worry about not being able to wandless charms. Like I said before you're only meant to start wandless magic in Sixth year. The fact you can do some magic deliberately is a great achievement._

_As for our dear friend Snuffles, don't worry. I solemnly swear not to tease him in the slightest._

_Remus_

_P.S If you slip the blank piece of parchment attached to this letter into Sirius' pocket it definitely won't emit an old ladies' voice calling for her precious Snuffles._

Severus Snape paced his office. He was even crankier than usual and none of the other Professors had any doubt why. This was the year Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts. The year that James Potter's son, his most hated rival was coming to Hogwarts. This was the year, though only Professor Dumbledore and himself knew the significance of it, and Snape was determined to always keep it that way, that Lily Evans' son. _N_o, thought Snape, _not Evans, not anymore. _The bitterness of his greatest mistake washed over him once more, stronger than usual. Because this was the year that Lily _Potter's _son was coming to Hogwarts.

There was a soft knock on the door. Snape, in even less of a mood than usual to bother with social niceties, waved his hand and the door swung open. His back was to the door, but he had no doubt as to who was standing in it's frame and, sure enough, Albus Dumbledore's voice assaulted his ears,

"It does not do to dwell on the past Severus,"

"I was not dwelling on anything," he snapped back, ignoring the fact the it was plainly obvious to anyone within a fifty mile radius that he was _dwelling._

"I know," said Dumbledore, with perhaps the merest traces of anger, "that it would be useless to remind you that Harry is not his father? That you cannot resent the past forever?"

"Yes I can," replied Snape, knowing and hating the fact that he sounded like a petulant child. Dumbledore sighed,

"All I ask, Severus, is that you do not judge on what you first see, no matter, who or what it may remind you of. To all that have met him, and in that I include myself, Harry seems an unassuming and likeable boy. Please do your best not to hate him outright." Dumbledore left the room and Snape finally turned around, watching the Headmaster walk away.

Albus Dumbledore visited Grimmauld Place a few days later. Harry rushed to greet him, "Ah, Harry," he said, then looked up to see Sirius, "Sirius. I have come to arrange Harry's trip to Diagon Alley. Hagrid is waiting for you in the Leaky Cauldron at this moment. Sirius should be able to accompany you as Snuffles -"

"Padfoot," Sirius growled. Dumbledore appeared not to have heard him,

"- without arousing suspicion. I also came to give you this, Harry," Dumbledore pulled something from under his cloak. It was silvery grey and almost like water, Dumbledore handed it to Harry. It wasn't like anything else he had ever touched, it felt like water and yet was, undeniably, solid. Sirius moved forward, "James' invisibility ..." he trailed off,

"Indeed it is," replied Dumbledore, uncharacteristically solemn, "it was in my possession when he died. I'm afraid I had quite forgotten about it. It is time it was returned to you Harry, after all it is rightfully yours," the twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eyes, "use it well."

Harry took very little time to decide that the Invisibility Cloak was the greatest invention the world had ever known. Sirius showed how to fold it so it would fit into his small pocket and told him stories of the mischief they had got up to with the Cloak. Harry listened, rapt, already imagining creeping about, invisible, in the dead of night.

Sirius spent the rest of the day searching and Harry didn't see much of him him until he finally emerged holding a small grubby package. Harry opened it. It was a mirror, Sirius grinned at Harry's confused look, "It's a two way mirror," he explained, "I've got the other one. If you ever have an emergency or just need to speak to me secretly you say my name into it. Me and James used to use them when we were in separate detentions. Most of the time you can use owls if you want to speak to me or Remus though." Harry nodded, his excitement mounting as he prepared to enter the wizarding world once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry and 'Snuffles' met Hagrid in the Leaky Cauldron. The whole bar went silent as he entered and Harry edged closer to Snuffles, nervous at the sudden attention. Hagrid didn't seem to notice the awkwardness as he strode towards them, "Harry!" he said, "blimey, las' time I saw you, you was jus' a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes." Harry remained silent. Hagrid glanced down and chuckled, "Professor Dumbledore said yeh'd have a dog with yeh. I think I migh' have a treat for him somewhere," and with that he plunged his hand into his cavernous pockets until he eventually pulled out some dog biscuits and gave them to Snuffles, who sniffed them apprehensively,

"His name's Snuffles," Harry told Hagrid with a grin, Snuffles gave a low growl and they left the still slightly shell shocked crowd in the Leaky Cauldron. Unnoticed by everyone else in the Leaky Cauldron a man in a turban fidgeted nervously, "Harry Potter. That can't be good," he muttered.

Diagon Alley, Harry decided, was amazing, he wished he had a thousand more eyes, and perhaps a few more ears, so he could take it all in. First, they got some of Harry's money from the frankly terrifying Gringotts and Snuffles was oddly silent. Harry knew that, had he been human, Sirius would have been insisting that _he _pay for Harry's things. Then, whilst Hagrid got a drink to recover from the Gringotts carts, Harry went with Snuffles to get his uniform. There was another boy in the shop who had an air of casual arrogance and surveyed his surroundings like a lord, "Hullo," the boy said in a bored voice, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," said Harry,

"Oh," drawled the boy, then, like Hagrid, he glanced down to Harry's side. Unlike Hagrid he did not smile, "I say, is that _your _dog?" the boy sneered, "I wouldn't let a mutt like that in the house," Snuffles growled and the boy flinched,

"I wouldn't insult him if I were you," Harry said coldly, "he does have such a bad temper," the boy was silent for moment then, obviously choosing to ignore Snuffles, he said,

"What house do you think you'll be in?"

"Gryffindor," Harry replied "like my mum and dad," _And Sirius and Remus, _he added silently,

"Gryffindor," the boy sneered, "I should've known. What's your surname?"

"What does my surname matter?" Harry snapped, growing angrier by the second. This boy was obviously from one of those old pure blood families that Sirius had told him about. Well, if the boy was proud of his name then Harry would see what the boy made of his, "It's Potter anyway. Harry Potter," the boy's eyes flickered up to Harry's forehead, to his scar, and the boy's face showed the tiniest hint of fear. Harry smirked,

"Malfoy," the boy replied, "Draco Malfoy." It was lucky, if disappointing, that Madam Malkin came bustling over at that moment or Harry was sure they'd have ended up fighting.

"Malfoy?" Harry mouthed at Snuffles and Snuffles snorted. Harry straightened up. That was all he needed to know. "Malfoy," he muttered to himself, "well Harry, you're doing well. One enemy already and no friends." Snuffles snorted again. He knew that Harry would have no trouble in finding himself friends.

They went to Flourish and Blotts to buy Harry's school books next. Harry only wished that Remus was there with them to point Harry to all the really interesting books, but Hagrid still had to pull Harry away from a book of curses, "But they look really interesting," Harry protested,

"Yeh'll only get in trouble for using them," Hagrid said, "besides, they're far beyond beginner level, yeh need a lot more work before yeh could do any o' those. Not that I doubt yeh'll try, if yer anything like yer dad," If Snuffles could have, he would have grinned. Harry was definitely a lot like James.

They bought cauldron, scales and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they got, from Harry's perspective, a very strange array of ingredients for Potions. Hagrid also had to drag Harry past _Quality Quidditch Supplies_when Harry stood staring, "Firs' years aren't allowed brooms," he reminded Harry gruffly,

"But Hagrid," protested Harry, who had only ever flown on Sirius' old broom at the dead of night when he was sure nobody would see, "they've got a _Nimbus 2000_." Snuffles nudged Harry and gave him a look that was clearly meant to remind Harry that he had promised Harry a broom for his twelfth birthday. "Oh all right," Harry muttered mutinously and he reluctantly walked away.

They bought Harry an owl next, Hagrid insisting on buying it himself as a birthday present, waving aside Harry's stammered objections, "Course I know I don' have to," he had said, "tha's what makes it a present." He had also insisted on helping Harry choosing as, he had told Harry, if there was one thing he did know, it was creatures. Harry eventually decided on a beautiful snowy owl that he had immediately taken a liking to and had felt some sort of bond to. He wondered if it was magic. Hagrid had declared the owl, "Somethin' special alrigh'," and so the snowy owl had been bought.

Eventually they got to the thing that Harry had been looking forward to most, a wand. The shop was narrow, shabby, and was clearly held together by magic as Harry was sure it would fall down if it wasn't. As he entered the back of his neck prickled and he had a strange feeling that the dust and silence was alive. Harry wondered if he was sensing magic like Remus said some wizards could, after all, a shop that sold wands certainly seemed the sort of place where you might sense magic, or was he just nervous? Harry looked around the tiny shop with its deep shadows, so unlike the hustle and bustle outside, _I'm_ _just nervous,_ he decided. _Relax. _Harry was just getting used to the strange shop when a soft voice spoke from gloom, making him jump. _Perhaps not._

Ollivander had been contemplating the interesting combination of yew and unicorn hair when he heard the shop door open. He put his experiments down with a smile, the only thing that interested him more than creating wands was matching wands and wizards. He rounded the corner and there, to his great delight, stood Harry Potter. Ollivander practically quivered with excitement as the challenge of finding Harry Potter a wand grew steadily harder until, Ollivander took down one particular box, trembling. Would the brother of the _His _wand work for Harry? It was a fascinating thought, a hypothesis that Ollivander could not resist testing, no matter how blatantly absurd the idea was. Absurd, that was, until he was proved undoubtedly correct. Ollivander's mind scurried for theories and ideas, but this was something no one had ever seen before. Wands had always had brothers of course, but the connection between the two wizards who carried them made it extraordinary. Ollivander was interrupted by the boy asking just exactly what was so curious about the wand that had chosen him. Ollivander smiled. Harry Potter would certainly be one to watch.

Harry had talked non stop all the way back, ignoring the strange looks they had got. Hagrid eventually managed to get him to stop talking long enough to give him his train ticket, "Platform Nine and Three Quarters," he read reverently and Hagrid's beetle black eyes crinkled with fondness,

"I'll see yeh at Hogwarts Harry," he said. Then he was gone and Harry and Snuffles made their way back to Grimmauld Place. Harry looked at the snowy owl, thinking of his History of Magic book,

"Hedwig," he said suddenly, "I think I'll call her Hedwig," Hedwig hooted her approval of the name.

Sirius watched Harry trying spells out half happy, half sad. Of course he was happy that Harry was growing up, that he would be going to Hogwarts and introducing a new generation of Marauders to Hogwarts but he knew he was going to miss Harry. Knew he was going to miss Harry so much it would be like a constant physical pain. Ever since he had rescued Harry from the Dursley's they had rarely spent any time apart and now they would have to. Remus appeared by his side also watching Harry, "I'll miss him as well," he said quietly,

"I know,"

"It won't be as fun without him,"

"I know,"

"It's going to be OK," Remus assured himself as much as Sirius, "he'll write and you did give the mirror didn't you?"

"Yeah, yeah I did," a vase exploded and Remus rushed forward,

"You're flourishing your wand too much," he told Harry, "here, like this," Remus demonstrated whilst Harry watched him closely, not even blinking so he wouldn't miss anything. Sirius watched as Harry successfully levitated one of few remaining unbroken objects and smiled.

"You're a good teacher," he told Remus later,

"Am I?" Remus asked, surprised,

"You're patient and encouraging. Simplifying things so he can understand and you make it so that he tries his hardest to get something right to please you. Not that he wouldn't want to learn on his own, but you stop him getting frustrated and giving up," Remus smiled softly,

"I like teaching him,"

"You make a good parent as well," Remus stared at Sirius like he was crazy,

"Me? I just teach him the odd thing, I mean, it was you that found him, that's looked after him, I -"

"I'm not the best parent," countered Sirius, "I'm better than the Dursleys yes but," an extremely ugly look passed over his face, "that's not exactly hard, but I'm more like a mischievous older brother than a parent. You though? You make a great parent, I've seen you and him together, its ..." Sirius struggled to find the right words, then gave up and just said, "he needs you." Remus was silent for a long time, a look of quiet delight on his face until he said,

"You make a good parent too Sirius,"

"I know," he said seriously, then the grin returned to his face, "you know what this means,"

"What?"

"It's you he'll go to for homework advice," Remus laughed,

"I'd like that," he admitted.

The fateful day came and Hagrid, accompanied by Snuffles, took Harry to the station. Remus had wanted to join them but they had decided it was better that he didn't, for the sake of secrecy. Sirius had, despite being human, growled when they decided it and Remus had told him calmly, "I don't like it either Sirius, but it's for the best." he then turned and hugged Harry fiercely, "You make sure you write, and you can ask for help with schoolwork. Just because I won't be there doesn't mean I can't teach you," he paused, "except for Potions. I'm really bad at Potions," Harry hugged back and nodded. When they got to the Platform Harry bent down and buried his face in Snuffles hair, "I'll write," he promised, "every week, and you better write back, d'you here?" Snuffles nodded, "And Remus better write as well," Harry stood up, "See you at Christmas," he said quietly and walked onto the train.

Sirius arrived back at Grimmauld Place looking like he had just run a marathon. Remus silently handed him one of the glasses of Firewhiskey he was carrying. They clinked their glasses against each other, "To Harry," said Remus,

"To Harry," agreed Sirius.

Harry sat in an empty compartment, watching houses flash by and feeling his excitement mount. He was finally going to Hogwarts. The door slid open and a red headed boy with freckles came in, "Anyone sitting here?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry, "everywhere else is full." Harry shook his head and the boy sat down, "I'm Ron, by the way," said the boy, "Ron Weasley,"

"I'm Harry," Harry replied, "Harry Potter." They started to talk and very quickly became firm friends once Ron had gotten over his amazement that he was talking to _the _Harry Potter. Ron told Harry about life with five older brothers and one younger sister and Harry told Ron about life with the Dursleys until he had run away. There was an awkward silence after Harry told Ron that he couldn't tell him who he lived with and where he lived that was broken by Malfoy and two other boys coming into the compartment. They managed to scare them away and stop them stealing their sweets when Scabbers, Ron's rat, bit one of the boys and Harry managed to actually levitate Malfoy.

"That was amazing," Ron told Harry later. Harry shrugged,

"I'm quite surprised it worked. I've only managed to levitate small things a few times before,"

"But you're not allowed to do magic outside school," protested Ron, with a grin on his face,

"Si – Canis doesn't really tend to follow rules, besides, they're pretty unenforceable since the Ministry can't actually who's doing the magic, only that magic is being done and Moony wanted to give me a head start."

And so Harry arrived at Hogwarts having broken dozen school rules and at least one law, made one very good friend and one enemy. _Life, _thought Harry, _is going to be good._


	9. Chapter 9

Whispers followed Harry wherever he went, which, although he had been prepared for it Harry still found extremely odd and slightly disturbing, especially since he was still having trouble finding his way around. Then there were the lessons themselves which varied between the difficult, interesting and the deadly boring. Unfortunately, the lesson that Harry had been looking forward to most, Defence Against the Dark Arts, turned out to be a bit of a joke because Quirrell was so nervous and Harry was glad he still had Remus to turn to for help. Then came Potions. Harry had been dreading it, partly because it was the one of the only subjects Remus hadn't been able to give any hints on and because of everything he had heard about Snape, both from Sirius and Remus and from all the other students.

"Tell me Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Harry panicked, his mind blank. Beside him Hermione's hand shot up and waved in the air like a great, pink, very distracting fly, but then Harry remembered something Remus had told him,

"I have never been taught by Snape, but he'll probably give you a hard time because you're James' son, so be prepared for obscure, difficult and trick questions." _Trick questions, _Harry thought, _so where's the trick? _Then he remembered a seemingly insignificant passage in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi,_

"They're … well ... they're the same thing aren't they Professor? Also called … something beginning with a, I think,"

"Correct. The word you are looking for, Potter, is aconite," despite Snape's harsh tone Harry noticed something strange. Although the curling of Snape's lip couldn't be called a smile, it wasn't a sneer either. The rest of the lesson didn't go too badly, although Snape did seem to favour Malfoy and kept testing and interrogating Harry more than any other pupil. Harry got the feeling that he would make a fool of himself, but to his surprise as much as Snape's, he didn't do too badly. At the end of the lesson Snape declared Harry's potion to cure boils 'passable', and Harry, having watched him all lesson, realised that, coming from Snape, it was praise and left the classroom in high spirits.

Snape, however, was in a bad mood. So Harry Potter wasn't a complete dunderhead and he wasn't the arrogant James Potter that he knew and hated, even though superficially he looked like him and many of his mannerisms were the same, except for his … _Don't think about the eyes. _Snape sighed, _too late._ He had attempted to treat Potter like any other student, but it was hard because he was a lot like James Potter, but he was also so … so.

So like Lily.

So the Potter boy didn't have her brilliance at potions, he was adequate, nothing more, he didn't have her laugh or her voice. He didn't have a lot of things that Lily had, but there was undeniably something in his manner that reminded him of her.

The problem was, he admitted, he just didn't know whether he liked or hated the boy, whether he was more like James or Lily. _Why can't he just be like himself, why does he either have to be James or Lily?_ The annoying reasonable side of him questioned. Snape glared at the essay he was supposed to be marking, hated the nearly unintelligible handwriting, so he gave it a 'D' and threw it to one side. _Admit it, _the reasonable side of him needled, _if he wasn't James' son you would like him. _The next essay got an 'A' and Snape considered the logistics and ramifications of brutally murdering the voices in his head. The next essay, which Snape was more than annoyed to note, was written in colour change ink. Snape gave it a 'T' and it's writer a detention as he conceded that this particular voice may have a point. The next essay was obviously 'written' by the Weasley Twins because, as soon as his hand touched it, he got painful boils, Snape sprang up and set the parchment on fire to counteract the charm. This had the _unfortunate _side effect of burning the rest of the essays he had to mark as well. Snape muttered and the boils immediately disappeared, then he looked at his slightly charred desk, now utterly devoid of essays to mark and gave what might have been mistaken as a smile. "Ten points to Gryffindor," he muttered, after all, he was only going to take off twenty points and give both detentions in their next potions lesson for the trick homework and _forcing _him to destroy the rest of the essays_._

Minerva McGonagall was, currently, a cat basking in the sun. Sometimes when she wanted to think she turned into a cat, not least because people disturbed her less when she was a cat. At the moment she was thinking of her new students and one student in particular. Harry Potter. She had wondered, everyone had wondered what he would be like. She had been disappointed to learn that he didn't have the same instinctual grasp of Transfiguration that James had had, but he was hard working and determined to prove himself and she admired that. He was also so fundamentally likeable that all the Professors had quite quickly become very fond of him, including, rumour had it, Severus Snape. McGonagall, had she been human at this point, would most certainly not have given even the smallest of smirks.

Not that she played favourites. If she had been human at that moment she would have given a formidable, disapproving stare, though if she _had _to pick a favourite (and this was a purely hypothetical exercise) she would pick Hermione Granger, followed by Harry Potter. Both were clever, but Hermione showed a determination and brilliance that McGonagall had to admire, although sometimes she did worry about Hermione because her need to be the best was almost obsessive, whereas Harry was bright, but happy to relax in her shadow, sometimes to the point of laziness.

Snape, Harry decided, was his least favourite teacher. Most of the time he would either ignore Harry, or give one word assessments of Harry's potions, usually either 'poor' or 'passable'. Other times Snape would turn on Harry with no warning and Harry could feel years of loathing being directed at him, because Harry had no doubt why Snape treated him the way he did. Both Sirius and Remus had talked about their school days with Snape and Harry now wanted to hear Snape's version. As many teachers would note with frustration throughout his time at Hogwarts, Harry's curiosity, however many times it got him into trouble, was insatiable.

It was only a matter of time really. Snape had put Harry in detention for fighting with Draco Malfoy, admittedly Potter had attacked Malfoy because Malfoy had called Lily - Potter's mother, Snape corrected himself, a 'filthy mudblood' and Snape sympathised with Potter's desire to hex Malfoy into oblivion, but he still put Potter into detention. He had also taken five points off Slytherin, a move which shocked Malfoy, and everybody else in the immediate vicinity (and, by the end of the day, the whole school, because everybody knew that Snape didn't take points from Slytherin).

Potter cleaned the dungeons without magic and Snape supervised him. Snape had to admit that he was, if not impressed as such, then he was satisfied. Potter had not complained or kicked up a fuss but had immediately set to his task and, Snape was pleased to note, he was cleaning thoroughly and not missing the corners or harder to reach places. Then Potter slowed down,

"Sir," he said, his voice hesitant, "can I ask you something?" Every instinct screamed at Snape to deny his request, after all, this was a detention not a question and answer session, but something stopped Snape. He could hear how much it cost Potter to ask, and he had to admit he was curious as to what his question would be. Snape nodded curtly, "Why did you hate my dad?" Snape froze. He just had to ask the hard ones didn't he? It wasn't like he couldn't think of a million different reasons why he hated James Bloody Potter, but he knew that Harry hero worshipped his parents and some tiny, lost particle of compassion in Snape didn't want to destroy the boy's illusion of his perfect parents. Harry caught his expression and started babbling, "I'm sorry, sir, I shouldn't have asked, only everybody else says how wonderful they were, how wonderful my dad was and you hated him and I wondered why 'cos everybody else liked him sir -" Snape held up his hand for silence and Harry stopped talking immediately,

"I – we didn't get on. At school. We were in the same year and had … something of a rivalry. I … did not hate your mother." Although Snape hadn't really answered Harry's question, Harry knew the subject was now closed, and he returned to his cleaning but the silence that now filled the room felt heavy and oppressive,

"You seem skilled at muggle cleaning," Snape observed,

"Yes sir," Harry replied, "I used to clean for the Dursleys,"

"Dursleys?"

"My Aunt and Uncle. And my cousin. Used to live with them. Then I ran away," Snape recognised the deadened, almost emotionless voice, tinted with suppressed anger and hurt that Harry used to talk about the Dursleys. It was the same tone he had always used when he talked about his father and he found himself feeling unwillingly sympathetic. This boy was not spoilt James Potter.

"On your own?" asked Snape who found himself unwillingly intrigued,

"No, there was -" but Harry stopped and looked up apologetically, "I'm not supposed to say. Professor Dumbledore said. Not supposed to talk about it,"

"I understand," replied Snape smoothly, "it was Professor Dumbledore who found you wasn't it?" Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak unless he blurted out the whole story. Snape looked at the clock on the wall. There was five minutes to go until Potter finished his detention, but he was feeling unusually charitable. "Go," he said, "before I change my mind," Harry did not need telling twice.

Snape exited the dungeon to find Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkling back at him, "Fine," he said irritably, "the boy is not a complete waste of space. Happy?"

"Immensely," Dumbledore replied before walking away humming to himself.

_Dear Severus,_

_My son has told me that you took points off him for using the word mudblood. You and I both know that House Cups are of little importance in the long term, but what I am worried about is why you took those points away. Could it be that you have finally been taken in by Dumbledore's prattlings? At any rate, I hope to see an improvement in your attitude towards my son._

_Lucius Malfoy_

_Dear Lucius,_

_You and I both know that to survive in the world as it is today we must appear to have renounced the old ways, to listen to the 'prattlings' as you call them of Albus Dumbledore. Your son does not appear to have grasped this simple fact; not only is he using words that most people consider unforgivable, but he has made an enemy of Harry Potter, the boy most people consider to be a hero. I do not need to tell you how badly this will look. _

_I would also like to point out that, had I not intervened, your son, despite being flanked by the two biggest boys he could find, would have been beaten by a half blood who has been brought up by Muggles with no knowledge of our world. Yes, I mean Potter. I would also like to point out that your son has consistently been beaten on tests by a witch of no wizarding parentage whatsoever. I would hope that he would feel ashamed, and would not look to blame others but to improve himself as every self respecting wizard should. _

_Severus Snape_

Snape hesitated before giving the letter he had just written to the owl. It had been an odd day. Not only had he astounded the whole school (including himself) by taking points from his own house, but he was now preparing to effectively cut off one of his best protectors and allies.

_It's the eyes, _he decided, _it's those damn eyes. They always made me do the right thing._

He gave the letter to the owl.

A/N – A little note on the characterisation of Snape here. In OOTP it is said that Snape is so good at legilimency because he can control his emotions, unlike Harry. However, it is frequently shown throughout the books that he cannot control his emotions when it comes to Harry, Sirius and Remus which I though showed inconsistent characterisation. Sirius is understandable since he bullied him when he was a kid and continues to treat him badly, but Remus didn't participate in the bullying when he was a kid and makes every attempt to be polite as an adult yet Snape still verbally abuses him whenever he gets the chance and exposes him as a werewolf. Harry's only crime at the beginning of the books is being the son of James and Lily and while this wouldn't exactly endear Harry to Snape it doesn't excuse the way Snape bullies Harry. So that's why I changed Snape slightly here and also have Harry pass the little 'test' Snape gives Harry which I though would make Snape more likely not to hate Harry.

I also want to say thank you for all the wonderful reviews I have been receiving, they are one of the main reasons I keep writing, so keep them coming! Thank you.


	10. Chapter 10

_Dear Canis and Moony,_

_GOT INTO GRYFFINDOR! See – I told you I'd write. Classes are alright so far. Snape's not too bad, but sometimes he's vaguely alright and sometimes he has a go at me for no reason (no Canis, you can't hurt him). By the way, was a guy called Malfoy a Death Eater? Because there's a boy who boasts about being pureblood, calls muggleborns 'mudbloods' and is possibly the only boy in existence who I hate more than Dudley. And he's in Slytherin. Big surprise._

_I've got flying lessons tomorrow. Should be fun._

_Harry_

Harry had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else and the fact that they would be learning with the Slytherins only dampened his mood slightly. Harry knew he wasn't a bad flyer, but he was determined to be better than Malfoy. Unfortunately, Malfoy seemed to have a lot more experience flying than he did, from what he was telling everyone. The only two people not looking forward to flying lessons were Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, and they, whilst everybody else was eagerly discussing flying, were exchanging panicked tips on how to hang onto a broomstick whilst it was most definitely not attached to the floor.

Madam Hooch strode onto the pitch towards the First Years, reminding herself not to stare at Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived he may be, but he was also just another nervous First Year and he certainly didn't need the extra attention. She couldn't help grinning, however, when his broom jumped into his hands on his first try. He was a natural.

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in her office reading the latest edition of _Transfiguration Today _when she saw Harry Potter dive at least fifty feet and catch the ball inches from the ground, pulling his broom straight just in time. Her first thought was that Harry Potter was in serious trouble, and he would be lucky if he wasn't expelled. Her _second _thought, however, was that Gryffindor really needed a Seeker. McGonagall smiled as she started towards the pitch, she would need to talk to Albus of course, but she had no doubt he would agree. Albus was rather fond of the boy and it wasn't like, despite being Headmaster, he followed the rules strictly. McGonagall forced her strictest expression onto her face as she strode towards the pitch. It wouldn't do to let Potter know he had gotten off _just _yet.

"HARRY POTTER!"

_Dear Canis and Moony,_

_Allow me to gloat just for a minute. You are talking (or writing or whatever) to the youngest house player in a century. I play Seeker._

_What happened was Neville broke his wrist so Madam Hooch took him to the Hospital Wing, but Neville dropped his Remembrall which Malfoy nicked and decided to leave up a tree. So I went after him and caught the Remembrall after a fifty – foot dive. Right outside McGonagall's window. I thought I was going to be expelled, but McGonagall knows when to break the rules. I like her._

_I need a broom though. Wood (Captain and Keeper) says a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven would be good. You were going to get me a broom for my birthday so is it alright if I have it early? Please?_

_Harry _

Sirius stared at the piece of parchment, then read it through again, "Remus!" he yelled and Remus stumbled out of his room. It was the morning after full moon and, whilst it was better with Sirius there, it still felt like he had a bad hangover,

"Whu?" Sirius was bouncing around like a hyperactive puppy, which only made Remus' headache worse. Sirius waved the letter under Remus' nose and he grabbed it irritably. His expression changed from annoyance to disbelief.

"The jammy bastard," he murmured, then grinned, "so, are we going to get him a Nimbus or a Cleansweep?"

"A Nimbus," Sirius replied.

"Having a last meal Potter? When are you getting the train back?"

"You're a lot braver now you're back on the ground and you've got you're little friends with you," said Harry cooly, fighting the urge to burst out laughing. Malfoy had no idea what he had inadvertently done for Harry. The only down side for Harry was that he couldn't rub it in Malfoy's face since Wood had told him to keep his appointment a secret.

"I'd take you on any time on my own," Malfoy was saying. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only – no contact. Who's your second?" Harry glanced at Ron who nodded grimly,

"Ron," Harry replied, "who's yours?" Malfoy sized up Crabbe and Goyle,

"Crabbe," he said eventually, "midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked." He walked away, smirking.

Hermione, who had been sitting just a few seats away, chewed her bottom lip. She had just overheard the conversation between Harry, Ron and Malfoy and was now wrestling with her conscience but eventually she decided she had to do it. She had to stop Harry and Ron from breaking the rules.

"Excuse me," Harry and Ron looked up and saw her.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" asked Ron sarcastically. Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry. She was on a mission and she would not be distracted.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered, again Hermione ignored him,

"-and you _mustn't _ go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and your bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Goodbye," said Ron. Hermione turned. If they weren't going to listen to her she would have to take drastic measures.

Drastic measures like following Harry and Ron out of the portrait of the Fat Lady. As she shivered down the dark corridors, convinced they were about to be caught at any second, Hermione had to admit that this was not one of her better ideas. Then came the three headed dog at which point Hermione decided that she was never going to break the rules again, even if it was for a good cause.

The next morning Harry woke with a start, one clear thought running through his head. He had forgotten the Invisibility Cloak. Harry couldn't believe how stupid he had been, but, he conceded, if he had remembered the Cloak he would never found out about the three headed dog and whatever mystery it was guarding. Next time he decided to do some nighttime wandering he would not forget the Cloak.

Draco Malfoy sat at Slytherin table, confident that Harry Potter would not be at Hogwarts much longer and boasting of it to his fellow Slytherins, so when Potter and Weasley arrived in the Great Hall looking tired but perfectly happy, Malfoy couldn't believe it. It seemed that Potter had once again wormed his way out of trouble.

Harry and Ron could talk of nothing but their brief adventure and the mysterious package that they were sure the dog was guarding, "It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

"Or both," said Harry, then, in a low voice, he told Ron all about the Invisibility Cloak. Harry was determined to try out the Cloak as soon as possible.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long thin package carried by six large screech owls. The owls dropped the parcel in front of Harry and yet another owl dropped a letter on top. Harry ripped open the letter first which said:

_Our Brave Seeker!_

_Congratulations on breaking rules, not getting expelled and becoming Seeker. The giant package (as you might've guessed) is your new Nimbus Two Thousand. Probably best not to open it at the table._

_James would've been so proud. He was the best Chaser Gryffindor ever had._

_Canis and Moony_

Another note said:

_Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch pitch at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor M. McGonagall_

Harry handed the notes to Ron as he grabbed the package, eager to open it before their first lesson but ran into Malfoy halfway up the stairs, "You'll be in for it this time Potter," he sneered,

"I don't know," replied Harry cheerfully, "I've survived so far haven't I, despite you trying to get me expelled. Maybe the teachers just like me, or maybe they just hate you," Malfoy went for his wand but Professor Flitwick appeared at his elbow.

"Not arguing I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick Professor," said Malfoy quickly. Professor Flitwick beamed.

"Yes, yes. Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," replied Harry, fighting the urge to laugh, "and it's really thanks to Malfoy that I've got it," he added, smirking at Malfoy.

Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter, "Did you see his face?" Ron crowed, "he couldn't believe it," Harry laughed,

"And it really _is_ thanks to Malfoy that I've got it. If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be in the team ..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an unmistakeable voice from behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs.

"Yes," replied Harry simply. Hermione marched away with her nose in the air as Harry and Ron laughed.

Oliver Wood walked onto the pitch, a large wooden crate under one arm, his mind on the mystery of the Boy Who Lived. He knew Potter had to be good, McGonagall didn't break the rules for anyone, but how good could an eleven year old with little previous experience be? His question was soon answered as he saw Harry Potter flying around the pitch with obvious natural skill.

"Hey, Potter, come down!" he yelled and Potter flew down with an instinctive grace few Quidditch players possessed. "Very nice. I see what McGonagall meant … you really are a natural," he grinned. Wood quickly went over the rules, he didn't doubt that Harry knew them, but it never hurt to make sure. Then came the part that Oliver Wood was sure he would remember for the rest of his life. They practiced with a few ordinary golf balls and Potter didn't miss a single one. Wood felt ecstatic. "That Cup will have our name on it this year," he told Harry happily as they trudged back to the castle.

Perhaps it was the euphoria of the Quidditch that made Harry think that that night should be the Invisibility Cloak's first outing. Perhaps it was the history of the Cloak that made Harry think that he should be alone on the Cloak's first outing. Whatever the reasons, that night Harry decided to explore the castle alone.

Harry found a mirror. An ornate, magnificent mirror that stood as high as the ceiling in what looked like a disused classroom, he stepped closer to it, then almost screamed. He had not only seen himself, which was impossible since he was still covered by the Cloak, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him. Was the room full of invisible people? He stepped up to the mirror again and saw, to his surprise, two people he recognised – Sirius and Remus except they looked different. Sirius looked younger, happier. He looked like the man in the photo of his parent's wedding, the lines that Azkaban had given him were gone. Remus, too, looked younger and happier. The scars and the constant, ill, prematurely aged look were also gone. Instead there was a man looking tall and proud.

There was a woman standing right behind his reflection smiling and waving. She put her hand on his shoulder and Harry tried to convince himself he could feel it, but he knew the truth. She only existed in the mirror. She had dark red hair and her eyes, _her eyes are just like mine, _Harry thought as he edged closer to the glass, reaching out. Bright, piercing green, exactly the same shape, crying and smiling at the same time. A tall, thin, black haired man put his arm around her, comforting her, but he was crying the same happy tears. Harry was so close to the mirror that he felt like he could step into the reflection, but he didn't dare get any closer or it would break the illusion.

"Mum?" he whispered, "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling, but Harry didn't need their confirmation. He had seen a thousand pictures, but the recognition that they were his parents went much deeper than that. He didn't need a photo to recognise them. Harry looked at all the others in the mirror, all smiling and waving, he saw his eyes, his nose, his hair. Harry saw his family, his real family, not just the family of his blood as he saw Sirius and Remus there as well.

Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, staring hungrily back at them, dreaming of falling through the glass. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness. He looked and looked until the sun started to rise and he realised he needed to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his family, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room, resisting the urge to look back, knowing he would not leave if he did.

Harry wanted to tell Ron what he had seen, but realised he couldn't. He couldn't tell even Ron about Sirius and Remus and so Ron could not know about the mirror. Harry couldn't eat, he couldn't concentrate in lessons. All he could think about, all he could bring himself to care about, was the mirror and the thought that he would see his family again tonight.

"Are you all right?" asked Ron. "You look odd."

Harry didn't hear him.

Harry ran, making far more noise than was wise, but he was desperate to see the Mirror again, until, "So, back again Harry?" Harry's insides turned to ice as he recognised the calm voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"I – I didn't see you sir," Dumbledore smiled kindly and Harry relaxed slightly as he realised the Dumbledore didn't look angry,

"Strange how short – sighted being invisible can make you," he replied. "So, you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I expect you've realised by now what it does?" Harry was silent, thinking. What the mirror showed him was so completely impossible, but yet, so completely … seductive.

"It shows me what I want. What I want more than ..."

"What you want more than anything else in the world." Dumbledore finished softly. "The deepest and most desperate desire of your heart. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. People have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing of what it shows is real or even possible. Even the wisest of men and women have been seduced by it, you need not be ashamed. However, the Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you _do _run across it again, you will now be prepared. Remember, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Goodnight Harry."


	11. Chapter 11

It was still dark and everybody else was still sleeping, but Harry was desperate. He clutched at the mirror Sirius had given him. "Sirius," he whispered shakily, "Sirius Black." Sirius' tired face appeared in the mirror and Harry could tell he was trying to hide his annoyance at being woken.

"Wha?"

"Sirius, I need to talk." Sirius looked at Harry's panicked eyes and white face and woke up as fast as he could. Blinking, he said,

"What is it Harry?"

"I found this … mirror, except it wasn't …" Sirius stayed silent, knowing that Harry needed to tell him in his own time. "It showed me mum and dad and you and Remus. Except you were different, happier. Healthy. Like all the bad things had never happened. It showed me my family, basically. It showed them how they should be, and I … I became a little … obsessed with it, until Dumbledore found me and told me what it was. The Mirror of Erised, apparently. It shows you your deepest desire. I just … I just," Harry sighed, "I can't explain how powerful it was, seeing them, and you two, all there, smiling at me. Like a … I just miss them, Sirius. I wish we could be a proper family."

"I know Harry," Sirius said softly, "I know. I miss them too, every day, but you've still got us and we've got you. And that's going to have to do. And us three, we're not such a bad family, are we?" Harry smiled. He was beginning to feel slightly better.

"No. No we're not." Sirius made a move like he was going to hug Harry, then sighed.

"It's cruel, it's sad and it's not fair. Not a day goes by when I don't miss your dad, and your mum, even, but we've got to learn to make do with what we've got and be happy. And that isn't easy, but we've got each other."

Harry couldn't shake off his experience with the Mirror instantly, but he knew both Sirius and Dumbledore were right and by Halloween morning, as he was woken by the delicious smell of baking pumpkin, he was feeling vaguely normal again. Ron had noticed that something was wrong with Harry, but to Harry's infinite relief he had realized that Harry didn't want to talk about it and left him alone. That morning however, Ron had obviously noticed that he was starting to feel better and gave him a small, quiet smile. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that they were ready to start making objects fly. Harry grinned, remembering Remus' lessons and feeling that this might be one of those rare times that he mastered something faster than Hermione. Ron caught his eye and grinned as well, remembering the train journey when Harry had successfully levitated Malfoy. Flitwick put them into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus, who Harry got on with, but Ron's partner was Hermione. It was difficult to tell which of them was angrier about it.

Harry levitated the feather fairly easily, much to Seamus' annoyance, and Professor Flitwick's delight, earning him five points for Gryffindor. On the next table Ron was getting angry with his lack of success and Hermione looked annoyed that someone had levitated a feather before her, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Ron shouted.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap,

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled. Hermione gave Ron a superior look, flicked her wand and said,

"_Wingardium Leviosa." _Their feather rose four feet into the air and Hermione looked supremely pleased with herself.Ron didn't talk for the rest of the lesson and was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

Hermione pushed her way through the crowded corridor, going over the Charms class in her mind. She really felt she ought to have done better than Harry Potter, mastered the Charm faster. Second place wasn't good enough and, to add insult to injury, Harry hadn't even really worked at it. Perhaps he had been taught at home. She was trying to work out what she had got wrong when she overheard Ron Weasley talking. "It's no wonder no one can stand Hermione," he was telling Harry, "she's a nightmare, honestly." The words hit Hermione. She had been called names before of course, teased because she was clever, but in that moment she realized that, even in this new, magical world she would never be accepted. Hermione was startled to find she was crying and began to run to the girls' toilets furiously wiping her face as she went.

Hermione didn't think she had ever cried so much in her life. She had even missed class and Hermione didn't think she had ever done that before. Breathing deeply Hermione calmed herself down as she decided that she really couldn't miss the feast. Then she saw the troll and (to her great embarrassment, later) she screamed.

Sirius stared at the letter from Hogwarts, which was half reluctantly admiring and half very definitely disapproving, which told them that Harry and a friend had taken on a troll and saved another First Year. "Remus," he called, "did we ever take on a full grown mountain troll in our first year, and win?"

"I don't think we _ever _took on a full-grown mountain troll. I remember a baby cave troll in our third year though," they both grinned at the memory and Sirius handed Remus the letter. Remus read it and snorted and Sirius mock sighed,

"That boy's going to out do us by far, Moony. We're done for." Remus slung his arm around Sirius,

"Yeah, but it'll be fun to watch." He said and Sirius laughed.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you doing in classes? When you're not taking on full-grown mountain trolls of course. I should have also mentioned that, as well as Potions, I have no idea about History of Magic, so you can't ask me for help with that. We, like you, used History of Magic to catch up on much needed sleep after our numerous nighttime wanderings._

_As for the DADA question (which I am good at) 'Finite Incantatem' is a simple counter – curse that will undo the effects of most simple curses. Hope that helps._

_Moony_

_Dear Moony,_

_Thanks, it did help. As for History of Magic we've just made friends with the one person who can stay awake and even manage to __take notes__ during History of Magic – her name's Hermione (she's the one we saved from the troll)._

_Harry_

_Dear Harry,_

_Congratulations on making friends with the right people (I'm joking, of course. I'm sure she's a great friend for better reasons than she helps you in class and with homework). There's nothing quite like a friendship forged by a fight with a full-grown mountain troll anyway._

_Moony_

_P.S. Canis says he's proud of you for the whole troll thing._

Mrs Weasley was rather less pleased than Sirius and Remus that her son had fought a troll, but even she had to admit that it was an impressive feat, especially for a First Year. "Ginny," she said wearily, "promise me you won't do anything idiotic like wrestle a troll when you go to Hogwarts. You just have a nice quiet time and get decent grades,"

"Promise." Ginny replied. "What've Fred and George done now?"

"It's Ron actually." Ginny dropped her toast.

"_Ron?"_

As they approached November the weather started to turn very cold as the Quidditch season approached. Harry was beginning to feel nervous; on Saturday he would be playing his first match against Slytherin. As always, House rivalries between the Slytherin and Gryffindor were intense and fights were starting to break out, something that Fred and George told him was completely normal but didn't help with his nerves.

Severus Snape dragged his leg irritably. The saliva from the three-headed dog was preventing Madam Pomfrey from healing his bite instantly and so his leg was still bloody and mangled. Still, at least he had managed to stop Quirrell, as Professor Dumbledore had asked. He limped across the yard when he saw three students staring at him. Feeling vindictive, he limped over and looked for a reason to tell them off.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Potter showed him a library book and Snape thought quickly. "Library books are not to be taken outside the school," he said, "give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor." Feeling slightly better, Snape limped away.

It was only later, when Snape was bandaging his leg, that he regretted taking the book. "Blasted thing," he said to Filch about the three-headed dog. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Then Snape noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Potter was trying to shut the door as quietly as possible.

"POTTER!" Potter gulped and his voice shook.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back?" Potter said apologetically,

"GET OUT! _OUT!" _Potter fled and Snape slammed the door behind him. It wasn't very long before both Ron and Harry were convinced that Snape was after whatever the dog was guarding. Hermione remained skeptical.

Professor McGonagall watched her nervous young Seeker refuse to eat, wishing he would just eat _something_. He needed his strength. It was his first Quidditch match today and he was obviously terrified. She half wanted to march over to the Gryffindor table and force him to eat something when he finally managed to shovel some bacon into his mouth. Despite her Seeker's nerves, however, she was hopeful; for the first time in years she thought they had a chance of actually winning. She was pleased to note that Severus Snape looked mildly apprehensive, as if realising that in _this _match Slytherin wasn't guaranteed a victory. McGonagall saw Dumbledore raise his glass just slightly to her and she gave a small smile. As technically neutral as he may be as Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was still a Gryffindor at heart.

All Harry's nerves melted away as he started to fly, gliding over the game and searching for the snitch. Flying just came naturally to him and it was impossible to feel nervous when he was high in the sky with the wind rushing through his hair. Angelina scored and Harry did a couple of loop-the-loops to let out his feelings.

Snape watched the game with his lip curled. It didn't help that Potter was obviously a decent player, reminding Snape all too much of James Potter, and just when Snape was thinking that the boy wasn't so bad. Then Potter's broom gave a sudden lurch and Snape unconsciously straightened slightly, worried about the boy he both hated and liked, the boy he had sworn to protect. Then it happened again, it was like the broom was trying to buck him off, but that was impossible. Snape had a terrible feeling that he knew what was happening. He whipped out his wand and began muttering counter-curses under his breath, and managed to ease the curse on the broom slightly, but still Potter's broom tried to shake him off until he was hanging on by only one hand. By now the whole of the school had noticed what was happening but Snape didn't notice them. He was focusing completely on Potter. Focusing completely, that was, until his cloak was set on fire and he was knocked over. Quirrell, or whoever was cursing Harry's broom, but it was most likely Quirrell, especially if he _was _working for the Dark Lord, as Dumbledore suspected, must have been knocked over as well as Potter managed to clamber back onto his broom.

It was, Snape mused later, _exceptionally _annoying that Gryffindor had won the match since it was he, Head of Slytherin, who had saved their Seeker's life. It was even more annoying since he couldn't take credit, both because Dumbledore thought it would be unwise if anyone else knew that someone was after the stone (or even that the stone was being hidden in Hogwarts) and his own insufferable pride wouldn't allow him to admit it.

Harry wondered whether to write to Sirius and Remus about what had happened at the match and his suspicions about Snape but decided not to almost immediately. For one they had no actual proof that Snape was after whatever was being guarded or that it was him who had made his broom try to shake him off, and Harry didn't like to think Snape tried to kill him. In a strange way, Harry liked the bad tempered Potions Master. Also if he wrote to Sirius and Remus, Sirius would come marching into Hogwarts without thinking and attack Snape, then Sirius would go back to Azkaban and Harry didn't think either him or Moony could stand it if they lost Padfoot, or lost him again in Moony's case.

Hagrid shook his head as he watched Harry, Ron and Hermione walk away from his hut. It was ridiculous of them to suspect Professor Snape of attacking Harry and trying to steal whatever Professor Dumbledore was guarding. Dumbledore trusted Snape and Hagrid trusted Dumbledore's judgment even more than he trusted his own. His only worry was that he had given Harry, Ron and Hermione even more information by telling them Nicolas Flamel's name. Hagrid liked those three more than all the other kids, but he knew what they were like. They liked 'investigating' things and Hagrid knew it would only get them into trouble, especially since they somehow knew about Fluffy (and what was wrong with the name Fluffy anyway?). Hagrid shook his head and told himself not to worry; it wasn't like three inexperienced First Years could do anything anyway, no matter how much they wanted to.


	12. Chapter 12

Christmas was approaching and, as much as Harry was enjoying his time at Hogwarts, Harry was getting homesick and he couldn't wait to see Sirius and Remus again. He could tell his two best friends were feeling the same about their families, even if they didn't discuss it.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy loudly one Potions lesson, "for all those who have no proper family to go home to." He was looking over at Harry when he said it, but Harry ignored him, partly because he did have a family to go home to, only he wasn't related to his family. Partly because he had quickly learned that rising to all Malfoy's taunts wasn't worth it, especially in Potions where Snape was much more likely to punish him, although Snape did seem to turn on Malfoy without warning more and more often. The seemingly close relationship Snape and Malfoy had appeared to share at the beginning of the year had slowly deteriorated. Some of the students said it was because Snape and Malfoy's father had had an argument.

However Harry did find it hard to ignore all Malfoy all the time, especially after the Quidditch match, when, disgusted that Slytherin had lost, Malfoy had become much more vindictive and they often exchanged insults and shot jinxes and hexes at each other, although neither of them could do much damage.

Malfoy was in a bad mood. Everyone in the stinking school was so impressed with Potter just because he managed to stay on his bucking broomstick and Malfoy found himself in the unusual and uncomfortable position of being jealous of another boy. He longed to liked and admired like Potter was, even Snape seemed to like him, although his father had told him that Snape had gone soft and was actually listening to Dumbledore, so maybe that wasn't so much of a loss, but he missed the preferential treatment Snape used to give him. Malfoy spotted Golden Boy Potter, Blood Traitor Weasley and Mudblood Granger up ahead and smirked. Now was his chance. Weasley was offering to help the gamekeeper and Malfoy almost laughed; sometimes the idiots just made it too easy, "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts? That hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your-" but Malfoy never finished his sentence as Weasley launched himself at him, knocking him off his feet.

"WEASLEY! MALFOY!" It was Snape.

"Weasley attacked me sir," Malfoy said instantly in his most sycophantic voice,

"I saw, Malfoy," replied Snape silkily, "I also so you provoke him and attack him back. Detentions, both of you," and with that Snape swept away looking, as usual, remarkably like an overgrown bat.

"Well, that wasn't _too_ bad, for Snape," Ron said later, "and he gave Malfoy a detention as well, did you see Malfoy's face?"

"We saw it Ron," replied Harry, flipping through yet another book, "but we're trying to find out who Nicholas Flamel is, so, and I never thought I'd say this, but can you please concentrate?" But they didn't manage to find anything and soon it was time to go the Hogwarts Express to go home for the Christmas holidays. Harry had already asked Sirius and Remus and Ron had asked his parents but none of them knew who Nicolas Flamel was.

The journey back to Kings Cross was fairly uneventful. Eventually they emerged on the Platform, trunks in tow, searching for any familiar faces among the crowds. Harry spotted Sirius as Snuffles and ran over to hug him, then turned at waved at Ron and Hermione shouting "See you after the holidays!"

"See you," they yelled back and waved.

"Y'know," Ron mused in a low voice, "there's something not quite right about that boy, apart from the fact he defeated You-Know-Who when he was a baby of course, I mean, he's going home with a big black dog. Did you see the dog? It almost looked like a human when it hugged Harry, it _hugged Harry _Hermione, that's not normal for a dog. And there are all the secrets he keeps from us. Who exactly does he live with anyway?"

"I know," said Hermione, in her most reasonable voice, "but there are people who would want to kill him, not all the Death Eaters got captured. Harry said that Professor Dumbledore told him he couldn't tell _anyone_ the truth."

"Suppose you're right," Ron sighed, "it's just, he's my best mate."

"I know how you feel. I wonder about him too, but he _is _our best friend, so we've got respect that there are things he can't tell us, Ron," Ron nodded,

"I know, anyway, gotta go, mum's here. See you,"

Remus was playing wizard chess with Harry. Remus always won but Harry never gave up, promising that one day he would beat Remus, which Remus didn't doubt. On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting many presents. It wasn't that he didn't think Remus and Sirius would give him any, but they had to be careful with money. Remus didn't have much and Sirius couldn't access his Gringotts account too often or the Aurors would catch on to the tricks he used (like accessing it under a different name) and capture him. Harry's own small pile of treasure left to him by his parents was, as per Remus' advice, being kept and saved for when Harry really needed it, something both Harry and Sirius had grumbled about. But Harry didn't really care about presents; he had his broomstick after all and he didn't really want much else. Besides, Harry could still remember his life at the Dursleys and that made Harry glad to have good food and to be with people who loved him.

Harry woke on Christmas day with an unusually large pile of presents at the foot of his bed and eagerly dug into them. On the top was a roughly wrapped parcel with _To Harry, from Hagrid _scrawled across it. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute that Hagrid had obviously whittled himself and sounded a bit like an owl when Harry blew it. Harry felt momentarily guilty for not getting Hagrid anything, but what did you get a giant gamekeeper with a monster fixation anyway? Harry made a mental note to thank Hagrid when he went back to Hogwarts.

Next was Ron's package. There was a box of homemade fudge and a note from Ron, which said, _Don't worry, the fudge isn't made by me. My mum made it and she's good at fudge. You're lucky though, she was going to make you a Weasley jumper, but I told her you already have a family (of sorts) and she can't go absorbing you into ours. See you next term,_

_Ron_

Harry's next present also contained sweets – it was a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione and a letter that looked about the length of one of her essays, which Harry decided to read later.

From Remus, Harry received a second hand wizard's chess set. Harry knew the pieces would eventually become loyal to him, rather than shouting insults and confusing bits of advice at him like the set he usually played with did. From Sirius, he received a set of 'Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks' and a note saying, _Make mischief Harry! Also a little tip for my little Prongslet, the Kitchen is directly under the Great Hall, down the same staircase that leads to the Hufflepuff Common Room. To get in you need to tickle the pears in the portrait of the bowl of fruit. Happy Feasting._

_Sirius _

Harry grinned. Sirius had so far refused to tell him any of the secret passageways, insisting that he needed to find them for himself. Harry had found a few, which he had, of course, immediately written to Sirius about, but he doubted he'd ever be as good at finding them as the Marauders were and he was immensely glad of the help.

Remus was in charge of cooking Christmas dinner and was having far too much fun ordering Sirius and Harry about in the kitchen as they then had to rush to obey his every command. They also had to defend the kitchen from Kreacher, who appeared every now and again attempting to slip strange things into the food and muttered rebelliously every time he was caught.

Christmas in the Weasley household was just the same as it always was. The same food, the same complete chaos, the same Weasley jumpers, just a little larger the year before. Fred and George never really pulled the same prank twice but even the completely different pranks had the comforting feel of familiarity about them and Ron grinned, he may grumble, but he loved the Weasley Christmas deep down.

Christmas in the Granger household was as neat, tidy and organised as it always was. The same healthy, sugar free food as there always was and Hermione wished that, as she always did, just for once her parents could forget they were dentists. Her dad handed her a present, the new book she had been wanting and Hermione grinned. She really did love her family, health food and all.

Harry, Remus and Sirius spent the afternoon having a furious snowball fight, which only ended when Remus and Sirius started to charm huge mountains of snow to fly at each other. Then cold, wet and exhausted they returned to the warm fire and Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Remus.

Soon it was term time again and Harry met up with Ron and Hermione on the Hogwarts Express, Ron and Hermione, as usual, asking only vague, general questions about Harry's holidays that Harry answered happily but they noticed that Harry soon turned the conversation to other things.

They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book but they were still skimming through books whenever they could. Harry had even less time than the other two because of Quidditch practice and Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain didn't stop him.

_Dear Canis and Moony,_

_Another Quidditch match coming up! If we win against Hufflepuff Gryffindor will overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. The only slight downside is that Snape is refereeing but that just means we'll have to play even better to win. Go Gryffindor!_

_Harry_

_Dear Harry,_

_It's good to see that you're just as obsessed with Quidditch as James was. Good luck (not that you need it) and poke Snivellus in the eye for us._

_Moony says not to poke Snape in the eye. He always was the annoyingly sensible one, but he's probably right – you don't want to give Snape any excuse to take points or give penalties._

_It'd still be fun though._

_Canis and Moony _

Harry was just chuckling at the letter when Neville toppled into the common room. His legs had been stuck together with the Leg-Locker Curse. Everybody fell about laughing and Harry desperately tried to remember the counter-curse. He was sure Remus had told him about the Leg-Locker Curse, but Hermione got there before him and Neville's legs sprang apart. "What happened?" asked Hermione,

"Malfoy." Neville replied shakily.

"Report him!" Hermione urged but Neville shook his head and moaned,

"I don't want anymore trouble," he mumbled and Harry was startled to see that he looked like he was about to cry. Anger surged through him.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said fiercely, giving him his last Chocolate Frog, "the Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, and where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin." Neville smiled weakly as he unwrapped the Frog.

"Thanks, Harry … I think I'll go to bed now … D'you want the card?" Harry clutched the card Neville had just handed him,

"I'm gonna get Malfoy back," he said, "no one treats my friends like that and gets away with it." Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement and Harry looked at the card Neville had just given him, "Dumbledore again. He was the first-" Harry gasped, "_I've found him," _he hissed and showed the card to Ron and Hermione, "see 'Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous etc _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'_!" Hermione gasped and ran upstairs to the girl's dormitory.

"Where's she gone?" said Ron, annoyed.

"Probably gone to get a book," replied Harry and sure enough Hermione soon returned clutching a huge, faded book and a look of pure excitement, that Harry and Ron normally associated with homework, on her face.

"I knew it," she said, "I took this out ages ago." She flicked through it frantically whilst Ron and Harry exchanged glances, wondering whether they were allowed to speak. "Nicolas Flamel," she eventually whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!" They barely had time to look puzzled before Hermione huffed and said, in her old, superior voice, "Oh, _honestly, _don't you two read? Look – read that, there." Ron and Harry looked and, whilst they had difficulty making out the old text, they eventually deciphered it and looked up in astonishment.

"A stone that makes gold and stops you ever dying," said Harry, "anyone would want it."

"Exactly," said Hermione grimly.


	13. Chapter 13

The news that Snape was refereeing the match could only make Harry nervous. Not only was Snape almost certainly going to be extremely biased against Gryffindor but also Harry couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that Snape was trying to kill him, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. However, he was determined to play, not only because he was determined to show all the Slytherins he wasn't scared of Snape and help win the House Championship, but he also hadn't forgotten his promise to get Malfoy back on behalf of Neville. Winning at Quidditch would go some way to fulfilling that promise. The idea that Snape was trying to kill him seemed to him more and more ridiculous in his Potions classes. His Potions classes weren't his favourite lesson but Snape seemed to have leant to live with whatever grudge he held. Harry's performance in Potions had improved without Snape forever breathing down his neck, which made them both happier.

Snape shifted uncomfortably. He hated Quidditch and usually avoided matches, even when Slytherin played. However, he had to make sure Quirrell didn't make another attempt on Potter's life since he was the only one, apart from Dumbledore, who had realised the incident with Potter's broom was Quirrell's doing. Although, he thought bitterly, since Dumbledore had come to the match himself, Quirrell didn't have a chance to hurt Potter. The only thing he was doing here was making himself even more unpopular. Not that he cared about popularity, he had never cared about popularity, or at least, he had taught himself not to care.

Snape relieved some of his tension by doing what everybody expected him to do and favouring Hufflepuff. He could practically feel the hatred coming off the Gryffindors in waves, and from the Ravenclaws, and even the Hufflepuffs. Snape snorted, it was just like the Badgers to believe that a victory was only a victory if it was a fair victory. Couldn't they at least be grateful for the help he was giving them?

In retrospect he had to admit that refereeing like he did was not the wisest thing he could've done if he wanted to prove to people that he was more than a bad tempered, biased, ball of spite, but it made him feel better.

Then Harry Potter, who had been circling above the game, suddenly went into a spectacular dive which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Snape didn't know whether he wanted Potter to catch the Snitch or not. On the one hand he wanted Gryffindor to lose on basic principle, on the other, if Potter caught the Snitch now then the torture would soon be over. Potter sped past him, missing him by inches, which Snape had to concede, after a moments anger, was probably not deliberate. Then Potter rose, the struggling Snitch grasped in his hand as he basked in the cheers and adulation of the crowd and the rest of the team gathered around him. Snape sighed. At least it was over now.

Snape strode from the pitch with one thought forming clearly in his mind. He needed to have another 'little chat' with Quirrell. While he didn't even begin to imagine that he could scare a confession out of Quirrell since, even if Quirrell was serving the Dark Lord out of loyalty rather than fear, he would still be petrified of the Dark Lord. Even the insanely devoted lunatics like Bellatrix Lestrange were afraid of him. Snape knew that the Dark Lord was infinitely more terrifying than he was. No, the reason for the 'little chats' was to keep Quirrell distracted and less likely to attempt to steal the Stone whilst Dumbledore worked to deal with Quirrell once and for all. Snape didn't know why Dumbledore couldn't just inform the Ministry and have Quirrell thrown in Azkaban and Dumbledore had refused to tell him when he asked, but he still obeyed Dumbledore's orders.

What Snape didn't know was that Harry Potter overheard his 'little chat' with Quirrell and drew completely the wrong conclusions. Just as Dumbledore had planned, though, of course, neither of them knew that.

Quite apart from worrying whether Snape was going to steal the Philosopher's Stone their end of year exams were approaching. Although Harry and Ron were insistent that ten weeks was ages away and there was no point getting worked up about them yet, Hermione was still nagging them to revise. Remus had also sent a note reminding Harry to revise, although Sirius had also sent one telling Harry that if he was anything like his dad, and he was, he would breeze through the exams without any problems. Not surprisingly, Harry decided to take Sirius' advice. Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione and Remus. They piled so much work on them that they barely had any time to spare, let alone contemplate the safety of the Philosopher's Stone. Fortunately, it seemed to still be safe and Fluffy was still growling happily every time they put their ears to the door on the third floor corridor.

"I'll never remember all this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill. Hermione drew a breath, presumably to tell Ron exactly how to revise in order to remember 'all this', but Harry shot her a warning look. The last thing Ron needed was a lecture from Hermione, no matter how well intentioned it was. He was distracted by the sight of Hagrid looking completely out of place in his moleskin coat, never mind the fact that Hagrid wasn't much of a reader.

"Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

"Jus' lookin'," he replied in a shifty voice that got their attention at once. "An' what are you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still on abou' Flamel are yer?"

"Oh no," said Ron loftily, "we found out who he is _ages _ago. And we found out what the dog's guarding, it's the Phil-"

"_Shhhh!_" Hagrid gave a panicked look around the empty library, then sighed with relief. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter wi' yeh?"

"We wanted to ask you a few things, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about-"

"_SHHHHHH!_" said Hagrid again. "Listen – come and see me later. I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin' mind, but yeh can't go shoutin' abou' it here. Students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh," and with that he shuffled off, muttering to himself frantically.

Harry was just staring thoughtfully after Hagrid, wondering what exactly what he was doing in the library when something much more interesting came into view. Malfoy. Harry grinned and nudged Ron and Hermione. Ron grinned back, but Hermione, who had given up trying to convince Harry not to try and get Malfoy back, just sighed and hissed, "Its _Petrificus Totalus _remember_. _I suppose it would be useless to try and convince you not to do this?"

"Now you're getting it," he whispered back and pointed his wand at Malfoy, "_Petrificus Totalus._" Malfoy's legs and arms snapped together and he fell flat on his back.

When they were far enough away Hermione rounded on Harry, "What if he's stuck like that for ages and he misses classes?"

"He's in the middle of the corridor, Hermione," Harry replied, "somebody's probably already found him by now. Besides, I did it for Neville, remember? He deserves to be scared a little. C'mon, let's go to the kitchen, I could do with some food before we go and see Hagrid." Hermione rolled her eyes, but said nothing and followed Harry to the kitchen. Even Hermione had to admit that she wasn't nearly as strict about breaking rules now she was friends with Harry and Ron.

"Y'know, the people you live with, whoever they are, they're really cool telling you where the kitchen is and everything," said Ron, slightly envious,

"Yeah, they are," Harry agreed happily.

Hagrid sat fidgeting in his overheated hut. Now, as well as worrying about anybody finding out about his illegal dragon, he had to worry that his three favourite kids knew too much and that people would think he told them. Hagrid heard a knock at the door and jumped, "Who is it?" he called, trying to keep the quaver out of is voice and failing.

"It's us Hagrid. Harry, Ron and Hermione," came the slightly confused voice of Harry, "can you let us in?" Hagrid opened the door and ushered them in.

"So, yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," replied Harry and Hagrid was worried it had something to do with the Stone. He was right. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy." Hagrid had to admire their sheer cheek. It was one thing to go sneaking around trying to find things out, but to just come out and ask about things they knew they weren't supposed to know about.

"O' course I can't. Number one, I don' know meself. Number two yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose you worked that out an' all. Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"We took a wrong turning when we were running from Filch once," Harry told him, completely unashamed. Hermione shot Harry an annoyed look then turned on Hagrid.

"Oh, come one, Hagrid, you know everything that goes on around here. We were only wondering who had done the guarding really. We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you." Hagrid felt a warm feeling flow through him. _He_ was one of the people Dumbledore trusted the most, despite him being part giant and even after he'd been expelled. He looked at the three kids in front of him, all looking so hopeful. What harm could there be in telling them? It wasn't like they could do anything about it.

"Well, I don' s'ppose it could hurt to tell yeh that…" And so he told them almost everything he knew. It was only after they were gone that Hagrid realised he had been completely and utterly had.

Malfoy was feeling supremely smug. He had just overheard Potter, Weasley and Granger talking about the oaf Hagrid. Hagrid had, somehow, got himself an illegal dragon egg and, being the complete and utter maniac he was, he was trying to raise the fire-breathing monster. In a wooden hut. Malfoy allowed himself a small smirk; this was the perfect way to strike a blow to the idiotic Gryffindor trio and this time he would not fail.

_Dear Canis and Moony,_

_Hagrid has gone insane and is trying to raise a dragon (which is, in case you didn't know, illegal) in his __wooden__ hut. I know Hagrid has a monster fixation but this time he's really flipped, he's treating a bloodthirsty monster like a cute little kitten. The dragon, by the way, is called Norbert. Oh, and we think Malfoy knows about the dragon but Hagrid still refuses to get rid of it. _

_Please help._

_Harry_

_Dear Harry,_

_Firstly DON'T PANIC. Secondly you need to, of course, convince Hagrid to get rid of Norbert. We're not sure how you're going to do that (of course, if you don't manage that you'll have to kidnap him and set him free into the Forest). Thirdly (assuming you don't turn Norbert free into the Forest) you need to find someone who will take an illegal dragon. If we remember right, one of the Weasley brothers works with dragons, so you might try there._

_Good luck._

_Canis and Moony_

Unfortunately Hagrid refused to part with Norbert, despite Harry telling him that Malfoy knew about the dragon and could go to Dumbledore at any time. Harry decided that they had no choice. They had to kidnap Norbert before Hagrid got into trouble and if they made Malfoy look stupid in the process then it was all the better for them.

Hermione had found and performed a charm that made sure they made almost no noise when they walked. Harry, obviously, had the Cloak and was in charge of the expedition. Ron went to Fred and George for advice, which they happily gave, pleased that their little brother might yet turn out a great troublemaker. And so, with everything prepared, they set off at midnight to do possibly the stupidest and most dangerous thing they'd done yet. They were going to kidnap a dragon.

A/N Just a little note, the reason I didn't have Hermione start up S.P.E.W in her first year, after Harry had shown her the kitchen, is that Hermione has no reason to believe that there is anything wrong with the way house-elves are treated since they're all insanely happy to be working and Hermione has no reason to ask about pay and holidays and things.

Also, I'm going on holiday for two and a bit weeks without internet, so I won't be able to update until I get back. Sorry.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry, Ron and Hermione knew Hagrid would be devastated when he woke to find Norbert gone and they would have felt sorry for him, only they were too worried about what they were going to have to do. Running around at night was one thing but smuggling illegal dragons would get them expelled, or worse. Harry had heard too much about Azkaban to ever want to go there, at least from Remus. It was the look Sirius got on his face whenever it was mentioned and the way he _refused _to talk about it that really scared Harry. It was also hard to feel sad about finally seeing the last of the, rapidly growing, Norbert.

They crept into Hagrid's hut, tiptoeing around the snoring mass of gamekeeper. Norbert stirred and a wisp of smoke curled upwards from his nostrils. Harry immediately whipped out his wand, "_Petrificus Totalus," _he whispered, and then sighed with relief as Norbert stiffened. Dragons were extremely resilient to magic but since Norbert was only a baby he was weaker and more susceptible, although Harry didn't think the phrase 'only a baby' could accurately be applied to the bad tempered dragon. They then walked as quickly as they could under the Cloak and carrying Norbert, into the Forbidden Forest.

There was a narrow, winding track that disappeared into the thick black trees that Harry, Ron and Hermione set off down, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak as they went now they were away from the school. They held up their lanterns and saw that there was something shining on the ground and Harry heard Hermione gasp. "What?" he hissed. Hermione turned to him and he could see her eyes were wide,

"Harry, that's unicorn blood," she hissed back, and Harry was surprised to hear a definite quaver in her voice, "something's been attacking unicorns. Unicorns are powerful magical creatures and very hard to catch because they're so fast and hard to see. There's not much that could hurt a unicorn and whatever hurt this one might still be out there." Harry glanced at the blood.

"Then let's get this over with as quickly as we can," he said grimly turning to Ron and Hermione who hadn't moved. "We have to do this, c'mon," he begged, but they were all reluctant to venture further into the Forest.

"Couldn't we just dump him here and go back now?" asked Ron,

"He'd just find his way back to Hagrid's hut and you know Hagrid will never get rid of him. _C'mon, _he won't stay petrified for long. Dragons are too powerful for it to last, even when they're babies. The sooner we do this the sooner we can go back," replied Harry, who was now starting to panic and promising himself that if he ever got out of the Forest he would never do something as stupid as kidnapping a dragon again.

They were running further and further into the Forest, trying to ignore the unicorn blood until they almost tripped over something pure white and gleaming on the ground. It was the unicorn whose blood they kept seeing and trying to ignore and it was very definitely dead. There was a curious kind of beauty to it, even though it's legs stuck out at odd angles and mud was beginning to seep into the white fur. It seemed to radiate an almost tangible sadness and its mane billowed around its head like, and Harry was almost embarrassed for thinking it, a halo. Harry Ron and Hermione were all staring at it transfixed, half hypnotized by the dead creature until they heard a slithering sound and a nearby bush quivered. Then a hooded figure emerged from the shadows. It was like nothing Harry had ever seen before and seemed to Harry to ooze malevolence. Harry would have found the strangeness of the creature curious but his mind was frozen by fear. The figure didn't seemed to have noticed them and moved towards the unicorn, bent its head and began to drink.

"No."

Harry didn't know what made him say it, only that something in him knew it was indescribably wrong for this - whatever it was - to be drinking the blood of the unicorn. Whatever made him speak the damage was done. Despite it only being the slightest of murmurs spoken under his breath the figure looked up and stared straight at Harry, although Harry could not see any eyes. A pain like he'd never known before pierced his scar and a distant scream echoed in his head. He stumbled back, half-blinded. He felt Ron and Hermione grab his arms and try to wrench him up and away, but he could barely move, his mind was burning. Then Harry heard hooves galloping, but he wasn't sure if it was real or all in his mind. Something jumped over him and charged at the figure as he curled up, slamming his eyes shut. The pain in his head slowly receded and he cautiously opened his eyes, staring at, what he now saw was a very real centaur, in front of him. "Are you alright child?" asked the centaur in a deep, reverberating voice as he watched Harry struggle to his feet.

"I – yes – thank you – what _was _that?"

"You need to get back to the castle. The Forest is not safe, especially for you Harry Potter," Harry did not question the centaur's words, he was still trembling with fright,

"Can you show us the way?" he said in a small voice. The centaur stared at him for a long time, as if weighing him up.

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?" Behind him Hermione let out a small gasp and the centaur looked at her for the first time,

"It was hinted at in the Defence Against the Darks Arts book. It will keep you alive," she whispered, "but to kill a unicorn, I've read … it's a crime so terrible … so … to kill such an innocent thing … you'll live a cursed life. A half life." The centaur nodded.

"But who'd be that desperate?" Harry wondered out loud. "If it's so bad, death would be better, wouldn't it?"

"Yes it would," the centaur agreed, "unless all you needed was enough time to drink something else. Can you think of no one, Harry Potter, who would go to any lengths to gain power? Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Philosopher's Stone!" Said Harry and Ron together, "but who?" asked Ron, but to Harry it was starting to make a sickening sense. His scar hurting, the distant scream. Harry had heard a scream like that before in his nightmares, an echo of the night his parents died. An iron fist seemed to clamp around his heart and he was breathing with difficulty. He couldn't come back, not now. Something must have shown on his face, because Ron said, "Harry, what is it?"

"_Voldemort. It's Voldemort."_ Ron winced at the sound of the name,

"Don't-"

"I will take you to the edge of the Forest now. You will be safe then. Children should not witness such things." All three of them jumped. They had forgotten about the centaur.

They walked to the edge of the forest in silence. Harry was shivering and stumbling as he walked. Ron and Hermione kept shooting him worried looks and stood either side of him, hoping to catch him if he fell again. Once they reached the edge of the Forest the centaur left them and they pulled on the Invisibility Cloak, huddling together under it. Not bothering to even attempt to be quiet, they ran all the way back to the common room. Ron and Hermione collapsed in the armchairs but Harry started pacing and talking feverishly, running his hands through his hair. "Snape doesn't want the Stone for himself, he wants the Stone for Voldemort so Voldemort can come back … Voldemort's waiting in the Forest drinking unicorn blood to stay alive until he can get the Stone-"

"-Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, glancing out the window as if thought Voldemort could hear them. Harry wasn't listening.

"- And I might as well dig my grave now because once Voldemort comes back he's bound to come after me … I'm the reason he needs the Stone on the first place … I suppose that's why Snape's been trying to kill me."

"We don't even know if it was Snape who tried to kill you Harry," said Hermione,

"Well somebody did," replied Harry, "somebody did and they nearly succeeded. If I had fallen I would have died."

"Listen Harry," said Hermione in her most reasonable voice, "I know this is frightening, but everybody says that Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around you're safe Harry, and the Stone's safe. That's why it was brought to Hogwarts in the first place. Besides, who says the centaur was right anyway?" Harry looked away. He wanted to believe Hermione, he wanted to believe that Dumbledore could make everything better, but he couldn't quite bring himself to.

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking; obsessively going over the few things they knew. They went to bed exhausted, their throats sore and very glad that it was a Saturday the next day and there was no lessons to got to. Harry fell asleep almost immediately; it was a lot harder to be afraid of shadowy figures when it was light outside.

The shadowy figure in question sat brooding in the Forest. It had been him, the figure was sure of it. The boy. Harry Potter, _The Boy Who Lived. _The boy who, when he was a mere baby had robbed him, the greatest wizard of all time, of his powers and most of his life. The boy who had reduced him to a mere parasite, relying on others to survive, on fools like Quirrell. The boy had been right in front of him, staring at him. Then, as if he had needed any more encouragement, the boy had collapsed, been unable to move. He had been so close; he could have killed him right there and then, then the world would have known that even in Hogwarts, even under Albus Dumbledore's nose even The Boy Who Lived could die. But he had failed, beaten by a centaur of all things, a mere beast.

Quirrell, who he was unfortunately sharing a body with, started to shiver. "My lord," he whispered reverently, "my lord, I need to get back to the castle, or they will suspect my lord,"

"Are you cold Quirrell?" asked the back of Quirrell's head in a cruel teasing tone. "Are you scared? Are you scared of nasty Professor Snape?" Voldemort felt a flash of anger burn through him at the thought of his treacherous servant. When he returned to power he would make Snape beg for death before he killed him.

"My lord," said Quirrell again, and Voldemort was pleased to note that he sounded terrified, "if we do not return soon they will notice my absence my lord. I will drink more unicorn blood before we return if you wish it."

"If I wanted you to drink more unicorn blood I would have told you to drink," spat Voldemort.

"O – of course my lord. It was stu-"

"-You will take us back to the castle now." Voldemort laughed lightly as Quirrell ran, tripping over his robes in his haste. He needed his own body, and soon, then he would dispose of foolish Quirrell.

_Dear Canis and Moony,_

_OK, this is going to sound insane but please just read. _

_The Philosopher's Stone (which turns things into gold and makes the drinker immortal) is being hidden in Hogwarts after it was almost stolen from Gringotts. We know that much for __fact__. We think that Voldemort is trying to steal it, letting the troll in at Halloween as a distraction etc but has so far been unsuccessful. Also, because when we were in the Forest, trying to get rid of Norbert (which was pretty successful by the way, although Hagrid is broken hearted) we saw something drinking unicorn's blood and my scar started hurting like crazy and I heard mum screaming in my head. We were saved by a centaur._

_Anyway … Help?_

_Harry_

Sirius read the letter. Then read it again, "Blimey," he said, "you really have outdone us this time Harry."

"What is it?" asked Remus,

"Dragons and Philosopher's Stones and centaurs," replied Sirius, then when he saw Remus' bemused face, "look, just read it yourself."

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_We've just received a letter from Harry saying that he thinks that Voldemort is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone that is currently being hidden in Hogwarts. We suggest you take him seriously because 1, his evidence is pretty good. 2, he has a knack for knowing things he's not supposed to know and since he knows about the Stone which students presumably aren't supposed to know about we'd say he's probably right about the Voldemort thing._

_Canis and Moony_

Dumbledore chuckled to himself, then reached for a piece of parchment and a quill.

_Dear Canis and Moony,_

_Harry is a truly remarkable boy and he is indeed right. Please inform him that I have the situation in hand and that he should not do anything rash like try to save the Stone himself._

_Yours,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

Remus looked from the letter to Sirius, "You don't think Dumbledore's trying to hint something?" he asked.

_Dear Harry,_

_We wrote to Professor Dumbledore and he said this –_

'_Harry is a truly remarkable boy and he is indeed right. Please inform him that I have the situation in hand and that he should not do anything rash like try to save the Stone himself.'_

_Canis and Moony_

Harry grabbed the letter then laughed. "Hey," he shouted, "Ron, Hermione, look at this." They gathered round Harry and the letter.

"Well that's alright then," said Hermione, "we don't need to worry, Professor Dumbledore is sorting everything out," Ron snorted,

"Honestly Hermione, you think all teachers are super powerful or something," Hermione turned to answer Ron angrily, but before she could reply Harry said,

"Whatever, he knows what he's doing. Dumbledore can stop whoever stealing the Stone much easier than we could, I mean, he's _Dumbledore_ and we're only First Years after all."


	15. Chapter 15

If anything could top Harry, Ron and Hermione's relief at having survived their trip into their Forest and the letter reassuring them that the Stone was safe it was what happened the next day. Malfoy, who had clearly planned his moment of glory for a long time, told Snape about Norbert. Malfoy got Snape to search Hagrid's hut where, of course, there was no dragon. Harry, Ron and Hermione were worried that Hagrid might give the game away because Hagrid was looking heartbroken and was, although he was clearly trying to be discreet, looking for Norbert all over the place, but Hagrid surprised them all. Hagrid, who was not a natural liar and even more uncomfortable at lying to teachers, told Snape that his flustered actions, appearance and his tears were due to the fact that one of his Hippogriffs had died that morning. Snape gave Malfoy a detention on the spot for lying and wasting his time. Malfoy looked confused and furious that he had once again been outwitted and even Hermione had to laugh.

However, their light heartedness could not last for long. Their exams were now upon them and the teachers were working them harder than ever, leaving little time to think about the Stone or the hooded figure in the Forest. It was made even worse by the swelteringly hot weather. When they longed to laze around outside and even go swimming in the lake they were forced to stay inside and revise. Although Harry hated to admit it, he enjoyed Potions in the dungeons because it was one of the only places in the castle that was cool.

Although the letter from Sirius and Remus reassured him, Harry couldn't relax. His scar kept burning and it was all Harry could do to not show any sign of pain. He couldn't sleep either, his old nightmare had returned, except now the scream was louder and the green flash illuminated the same hooded figure that he had seen in the Forest. Ron and Hermione on the other hand seemed perfectly happy to forget all about the Stone. Hermione told him that his nightmares were probably the result of exam nerves and that he should go to Madam Pomfrey about his scar, but Harry refused.

At long last their final exam came. It was History of Magic. Harry even thought that he might have scraped a pass, thanks to the combined efforts of Remus and Hermione who, between them, had managed to bludgeon _some _facts into his brain. Harry had had to grit his teeth and write just the facts, forcing himself not to write his opinions when it came to questions on the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the 'emergency measures' that meant prisoners like Sirius could be sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban with no trial. He felt better, though, when he relieved his feelings in a letter to Sirius and Remus.

"That was a lot easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as she wrung her hands, "really no trouble at all. Although I did find the questions on the Wand Restriction Acts particularly hard, I really don't think I did it justice. I completely forgot to write about goblins." Ron rolled his eyes and Harry and Harry grinned back. Hermione liked to go over their exam papers after the exams and would always panic that she had failed everything. Harry and Ron had given up trying to reassure that there was no way she had failed, as she was by far the cleverest witch in the year. She would just snap and turn the full brunt of her panic fuelled anger on them, so they had learnt to zone her out and nod in the right places.

Maybe it was because Harry didn't have exams to concentrate on anymore but he had started worrying about the Stone again, leading Ron to tell him he was becoming obsessed and he should just relax. Harry, however, couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something he was missing, something important, just then Hedwig came in with a letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_Well done on the end of exams. History of Magic must have been a pain but after dragons and shadowy figures it must have been a doddle. As the Muggles used to say 'Keep Calm And Carry On'._

_Enjoy this week of freedom before you get the dreaded results._

_Canis and Moony_

Harry chuckled. "What is it?" asked Ron, wondering whether Harry would tell him. Lots of times Harry apologised and said he couldn't tell him what was in the letter, but this time Harry handed the letter over. "They know about the dragon?"

"Yeah, well," replied Harry casually, "they broke most of the rules when they were at school so they can't really talk."

"Wow," said Ron in an awe filled voice. Hermione just looked disapproving, but said nothing. She had learnt the hard way that it wouldn't make a difference.

"Wait," said Harry as a terrible thought struck him, "_dragons."_

"What about them?" asked Ron lazily, Harry jumped up from the armchair and ran towards the portrait of the Fat Lady,

"Don't you think it's just a bit odd, " he said in a rush as Ron and Hermione ran to keep up with him, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else in the world is a dragon and some stranger just happens to have a dragon egg on them? If it were illegal you wouldn't go around with dragon eggs in your pocket. Why didn't I see it before? We've got to see Hagrid."

Their visit to Hagrid, however, didn't reassure them. Despite what Hagrid had said a mysterious hooded figure that had gotten Hagrid drunk and found out the secret to calming Fluffy did not seem completely innocent. "We've got to tell Dumbledore," said Hermione immediately,

"We already have," replied Harry, "he already knows."

"Then what do we do?" asked Ron, Harry rubbed his scar,

"I'm going down there. Tonight." He said, surprising even himself.

"You. Are. Insane." Said Ron, "You hear me? Why do you want to go down the trapdoor?"

"I don't know," replied Harry, "Its my scar, it keeps hurting and I can't … Dumbledore's away anyway, remember? I bet Snape or whoever's trying to steal that Stone for Voldemort sent that letter to get Dumbledore out of the castle so they'll be trying to steal the Stone tonight. And it's not like anyone else would believe us. I'll use my Cloak." Hermione looked thoughtful,

"Do you think it will cover all three of us?" Harry stared at her and Ron grinned,

"You don't think we'd let you do something this mad by yourself do you? We kidnapped Norbert with you, we went into the Forest with you, and we almost died with you. We're coming with you mate." Harry grinned back and said,

"Yeah, I reckon it will."

Quirrell prepared himself to go through the trapdoor and steal the Stone. "Soon my lord," he murmured and he felt a slither of annoyance pass through him. Quirrell often felt his master's moods, joined as they were, although this time he was sure it was entirely deliberate on his master's part, intended to scare him. His master hated empty promises and when he babbled pointlessly, an unfortunate habit of his that his master had been training him out of. His master would only be happy when the Stone was held in his newly restored hand. Quirrell scurried to the Third Floor Corridor.

Dumbledore leant back in his chair in the Ministry. He had an idea of what was going to happen tonight and his conscience was prickling him. He did not like the idea of effectively throwing an eleven year old boy at even a weakened Voldemort, but he knew Harry deserved the chance to face him and, he reassured himself, he would be ready to step in should Harry be in any real danger.

Fred nudged George, "Look," he said, pointing to the Marauder's Map, "Ron's sneaking off to the Third Floor Corridor, and Harry and Hermione." George grinned,

"Looks like our little brother might not be such a wimp after all, and I always knew Harry was a good kid. Hermione though, from what I've heard she's like a mini Percy," the twins mock shuddered thinking about their rule obsessed brother, "maybe she's not so bad after all. Hey, looks like Quirrell's heading there as well, seems the place to be tonight. Did we ever figure out why Quirrell looks weird on the map?" Fred shrugged,

"Probably 'cause he is weird. Doesn't really matter, he'll be gone by the end of the year, they always are." He spotted something, perked up, grinned and whispered, "Anyway, enough of that, Snape's coming, get the fireworks ready."

Quirrell charmed his harp to stop playing as soon as he had gone through the trapdoor, he couldn't risk anybody following him. He jumped and fell. Cold, damp air rushed passed him and he whipped out his wand in case he needed to break his fall but it was so dark he could not see the bottom. Quite suddenly he landed on something soft, it seemed to be some sort of plant. Quirrell was not so naïve as to think that the plant was merely there to break his fall and sure enough he soon felt snake like tendrils wrapping around him, trapping him. He struggled, but that only made the plant hold him tighter. If only he could see what the plant was he would know how to kill it. Then it struck him, if the plant, whatever it was, liked the dark and damp room then it would not like fire and so he conjured a fire.

Soon Quirrell was free as the plant cringed away from the fire and he walked down the stone passageway. He was reminded unpleasantly of Gringotts and his last failure. He prayed desperately to gods he didn't believe in that he might be more successful this time, that he might be spared his master's wrath.

The next obstacle presented more of a challenge for Quirrell. He had to catch one of the flying keys out of hundreds and he had never been much of a Quidditch player, preferring to study instead. He tried, desperately, to summon the key he needed but, as he had expected, that didn't work. He had to play by the rules and catch the key. Quirrell picked up a broomstick and hoped. It took him an hour in the end, an hour of randomly grabbing keys and trying them out. He had almost given up hope and was trembling with fear as he felt his master grow impatient and angry when he finally caught the right key.

Luckily the next challenge didn't present nearly as much of a problem for Quirrell. He was good at chess, although he was a little out of practice. The only problem was he would only get one chance to play. He chose to play as the king, as it was the safest piece on the board and even if he lost the game he might have a chance of fighting his way across the board the traditional way, with his wand.

The next obstacle was his own, the troll, which he had put there because he knew it would be easy for him to overcome thanks to his strange gift with trolls. He murmured the strange words which always seemed to calm them and troll fell flat on its back. Qurrell smiled grimly when he saw that the fall had given the troll a bloody lump on its head; anybody who saw the troll wouldn't think that the troll had been, for want of a better word, hypnotised but merely knocked out.

Quirrell pulled open the next door, hardly daring to look at what came next because he knew it would be Snape's challenge. He dreaded Snape not only because he knew Snape's challenge would be particularly nasty but he had come to fear the burning anger that filled him whenever his master's old servant was mentioned. Sure enough when he entered the room his whole head burned and he struggled to keep his eyes open through the pain.

In the room there was a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing in line. As he stepped over the threshold a fire sprang up in the doorway behind him and another fire sprang up in the doorway leading onwards. He was trapped. On the table there was a roll of paper lying next to the bottles, he slowly and carefully read Snape's distinctive scrawl.

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find._

Quirrell read on, his frustration gradually mounting. It was a riddle. How like Snape, but he read the hateful words over and over again until he finally figured it out and drunk a mouthful of the smallest bottle. It was like ice flowing through his body and when he walked through the black flames all he felt was a gentle tickling sensation. For a while all he saw was black flames, then he was through to the final chamber. Dumbledore's challenge.

All he saw was a mirror. The fabled mirror of Erised, the Stone was obviously hidden inside it somehow but he could not see how to get it out. When he looked in the mirror he saw himself presenting the Stone to his master. "One of Dumbledore's tricks no doubt," he hissed, "presumably there is no way of getting to the Stone if the viewer has a desire to use it."

"But then my lord there is no-" Quirrell panicked,

"Silence Quirrell. Even if that is indeed Dumbledore's intention I will get the Stone. Every lock can be broken even if one does not possess the key. Now silence."

That silence, however, never came as someone else stumbled through the doorway. Harry Potter.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry stumbled thought the black fire and into the last chamber and, as he expected, there was already someone there, it was not, however, _who_ he expected. It was Quirrell. Quirell saw him and smiled, "I was wondering if I would see you here, Potter." Harry smiled grimly back,

"So it wasn't Snape after all, I didn't think it was. It seemed too obvious and all along it was you." Quirrell laughed a cold, sharp laugh,

"Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? It was so useful to have him swooping around, next to him who would suspect p-p-p-poor st-stutt-ttering P-Professor Quirrell? Though I suppose I did perhaps seem a little too innocent. Snape suspected me all along."

"That was why he threatened you."

"Indeed it was, as though he could when I had Lord Voldemort on my side." Quirrell gave a twisted smile. "My, my Potter, you have done well. I'm almost impressed. It's a shame, Potter, because I'm going to have to kill you."

Quirrell snapped his fingers and ropes sprang out thin air. They wound themselves around Harry, holding him even tighter than the Devil's Snare had. "You're to nosy to live and my master has wanted you dead for a very long time. He grows impatient. Now wait quietly, Potter." Quirrell turned his attention back to the Mirror, starting walking around it and muttering spells under his breath, cursing when they did not work. All Harry could think to do was to somehow keep Quirrell from giving his full attention to the Mirror. He even tried looking in the mirror himself but the ropes prevented him from moving. Quirrell was still talking. "We have very little time master, and I cannot break whatever spell Dumbledore has cast. We must remove the Mirror from the castle." Then an unearthly voice filled the room.

"Use the boy … Use the boy …" Harry knew instinctively who that voice belonged to and shivered. Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes. Potter – come here." He clapped his hands and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry tried to edge away, he knew now that he could not look in the Mirror but Quirrell grabbed him by the collar. "Come here, boy." He repeated. "Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see." Quirrell held him in front of the Mirror. Harry saw his reflection, scared at first, but then he saw it smile holding a blood red stone. Harry felt the Stone fall into his pocket. Somehow he'd got the Stone.

"Well?" Snapped Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

"I – I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," Harry invented wildly. "I've won the – the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor." As Quirrell cursed and threw him to one side Harry congratulated himself on a job well done, but even as he lay sprawled on the ground a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"He lies … the boy lies, I can _feel _it …"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted and grabbed his shirt, pulling him back towards him.

"You do seem to like grabbing me don't you?" Harry didn't know what made him say it. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the surety that he was going to die so it didn't matter what he said anymore. Quirrell screamed with rage and raised his wand to curse him when the high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him Quirrell … face to face … let me teach him the meaning of fear …"

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"Do not question me … I have strength enough … for this …" Quirrell slowly unwrapped his turban and turned around so the back of his head was facing Harry. Harry wanted to scream. On the back of Quirrell's head was a face, chalk white with glaring angry red eyes.

"Harry Potter …" it whispered and Harry could feel ten years of hatred behind those words. "See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapour …"

So this was it, the … _thing _that had killed Harry's parents now, as he himself put it 'mere shadow and vapour'. Harry felt a vindictive pleasure that Voldemort had suffered so much and, under his breath, whispered,

"Good." Voldemort either didn't hear him or decided to ignore him.

"... I have clung to life despite facing certain death but the cost … the cost … I have form only when I can share another's body … there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds … it is a gift I have … Unicorn blood has strengthened me but I need more … I need the Elixir of Life … Now … why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So he knew. Harry tried to run backwards. "Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Join me, give me the Stone … I will give you more power than you could ever dream of … I could even bring your parents back … Or you could die the most painful death imaginable, like your parents … they died begging for mercy …"

"LIAR!" Harry yelled. "You killed my parents! You killed them!"

The evil face smiled. "How touching," it hissed, "how pointless. I always value bravery … Yes, boy, your parents were brave … your father put up a fight. It was over in seconds, of course … I was much too powerful for him but he still fought … but your mother needn't have died … she was trying to protect you … Now give me the Stone, unless you want your precious mother to have died in vain."

"NEVER!" Harry sprang towards the flame door shooting every spell he knew at Quirrell and Voldemort but Quirrell deflected them.

"SIEZE HIM!" Voldemort yelled and Harry felt Quirrell's hands close upon his wrist. A needle sharp pain seared across his scar; he felt like his head would split in two. Harry's last coherent thought was that it was all over. Voldemort would return. To Harry's surprise, however, Quirrell let go of his wrist, screaming in pain and clutching his own hand, staring as they blistered before his eyes.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort and Quirrell lunged, but he soon fell back, howling in agony.

"Master, I cannot hold him – my hands – my hands! What has he done to me?"

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" Voldemort screamed, incandescent with rage.

Quirrell raised his wand to perform the deadly curse, but Harry, ignoring his own pain, knowing it was his only chance reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face. Quirrel fell back and raised his wand again. For some reason, Quirrell couldn't touch his skin. Harry knew that his only chance was to keep Quirrell touching his skin. Harry lunged forward and clung onto Quirrell's arm, Quirrell screamed and tried to throw him off, the pain in Harry's head was building but he still hung on, it was his only hope. Harry couldn't see anymore but he could hear. There were Quirrell's screams, Voldemort's yells of "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and other voices, maybe only in Harry's head, crying, "Harry! Harry!" Harry smiled; he wanted to go towards the voices in his head. They sounded like they cared.

Harry felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp and yelled out, if he stopped touching Quirrell it was all lost. Harry fell into blackness.

"Good afternoon Harry." Harry blinked. It was Professor Dumbledore and he was looking impossibly calm.

"Professor? What-" then he remembered. "Sir! The Stone! Quirrell! Quirrell's got the Stone! Sir, quick, he's going to give it to-"

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore with a faintly amused smile. "Quirrel does not have the Stone."

"Then who does?"

"Harry, my brave boy, please relax or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out, Headmaster or no." Harry looked around. He was in the hospital wing. Next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet shop. Dumbledore noticed him looking.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers." said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened between you and Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the school knows, although I have heard several different versions. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a lavatory seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, has confiscated it. I can, however, pass on their compliments on breaking a dozen school rules and managing to go unpunished, although I believe Professor McGonagall disapproves." Harry grinned, then he asked,

"How long have I been here?"

"Three days. Mr Ron Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger and," he lowered his voice, "Sirius and Remus of course, will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But sir, the Stone-"

"I see you are not to be distracted," said Dumbledore with a fond smile. "Very well, the Stone. Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say. You are a remarkable boy, Harry Potter." Harry blushed. Dumbledore must have noticed and he said softly, "You _are _Harry. There are not many who would have done what you did."

"But I almost failed, he almost got the Stone."

"Indeed you did. I arrived just in time just in time to pull Quirrell off you-"

"It was _you._"

"The effort nearly killed you, for one terrible moment I thought it had, but you showed remarkable determination and resilience. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"But your friend – Nicolas Flamel?"

"Oh you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You _did _do the thing properly, didn't you?"

"It was Hermione who figured Flamel out," Harry mumbled, "I couldn't have done it without both of them."

"And you make a fantastic team. It is a fool who insists on working by themselves when there are those will and able to help, remember that Harry. But yes, Nicolas, Perenelle and I have had a little chat and agreed it's all for the best." Dumbledore chuckled at the look of amazement on Harry's face. "I know it must seem incredible to one as young as you, but to the well organised mind death is but the next great adventure."

Harry lay in his bed, trying to understand the Flamels' decision, but gave up, perhaps, like Dumbledore said, he would understand when he was older.

"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking – even if the Stone's gone, Voldemort," Harry noticed that Dumbledore did not flinch as other wizards did when they heard the name. Dumbledore smiled,

"Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself. Always call him Voldemort Harry. Your question?"

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back isn't he? I mean, he's not gone, has he?"

"No Harry, he has not. I have no doubt that he will attempt to return to power once more. We can only hope that we are as successful at preventing as we were this time." Harry nodded, then said,

"Sir, I want to know, if you can tell me. Well … Voldemort said that he only killed my mum because she tried to stop him killing me. But why did he want to kill me in the first place?" Dumbledore sighed deeply and his cheerful demeanour faded.

"Alas I cannot tell you. Not today, not now. You will know, one day, when you are older," Harry rose in his bed and Dumbledore raised his hand, "I know you hate to hear this Harry, but please just trust my judgement, for now." Harry knew it would be no good to argue.

"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?" Dumbledore looked both sad and happy,

"Your mother died to save you and that created such a fierce protection that the curse Voldemort intended to kill you rebounded on him, reducing him to his current state. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He considers it a weakness that he is above and so he cannot understand that a love as powerful as your mother's could destroy him." Harry sniffed. He had only known his mum through photographs and stories and as brilliant as they were – much better than the Dursleys' pretence that his mum and dad never existed - but this made her somehow more real to him. Somehow the tangible proof that she had loved him, although he had never doubted it before, warmed him.

When he found his voice again, Dumbledore had been briefly incredibly interested in a bird on the windowsill, he said, "How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?" Dumbledore smiled and explained, as he called it, one of his more brilliant ideas.

When Madam Pomfrey finally relented and let Ron and Hermione in he had been in the hospital wing for a week and had eaten nearly all his sweets. "The whole school's talking about it," Ron told him with a grin, "I've got Seventh Years coming up to me and congratulating me. What really happened?" Harry told them everything: Quirrell, the Mirror, the Stone and Voldemort and they talked until Madam Pomfrey bustled them out.

Harry only managed to get out of the hospital wing just in time for the end-of-year feast because Madam Pomfrey had been reluctant to let him go. The Great Hall was already full when he arrived as Madam Pomfrey had been fussing and checking him over up until the last minute. He slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to get a look at him. Fortunately Dumbledore arrived a moment later.

Dumbledore walked onto the Great Hall, feeling a lot happier than he had in a long time and delighted to see that Harry had taken his place at Gryffindor table. He had a feeling that his end of year speech was going to be even more 'eccentric', as Minerva put it, than usual. "Another year gone!" he beamed to the hungry students, who, he knew, couldn't wait to start the feast. "I'm afraid I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were … luckily you have the whole summer to get them nice and empty again before next year starts. Now, as I understand it, the House Cup needs awarding and as the points stand the Cup will go to Slytherin."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from Slytherin table. Snape was looking quietly smug.

"Yes, yes, well done Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account." Dumbledore allowed himself at small smile at the looks of shock and apprehension on the Slytherin faces. Snape merely looked resigned. "I have a few last minute points to hand out. First – to Mister Ron Weasley for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." And so it went on, Dumbledore handed out points, all the time with a small smile on his face. Harry ended up being raced around the Gryffindor table on the Weasley twins' shoulders and Neville, Ron and Hermione were buried under celebrating Gryffindors. Harry looked over to the teacher's table and saw McGonagall looking as close to ecstatic as she ever came. To his surprise, he also saw Snape incline his head so slightly he thought he might have imagined it. Harry grinned back.

Soon they were on the train back home, then getting off the train onto the Platform, being let through the gate in twos and threes. Harry thanked Mrs Weasley for the fudge and wandered over to where Remus was standing in a corner, out of sight. Remus hugged him fiercely. "You idiotic, brave boy," he said, "nothing's ever going to make you sensible and let other people do the fighting is it?"

"No," replied Harry simply. Remus chuckled,

"I think you're too much like your mum and dad for your own good."  
"Thanks."

Chapter 1 of 'Another Life: Year Two' (I know, really imaginative title) is now up.


End file.
